


Fight!!!

by Str4y



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blood and Injury, Character Death, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fights, Heavy Angst, Hyunho - Freeform, Injury, M/M, Minor Character Death, Oral Sex, Rimming, Smut, Strangers to Lovers, Trauma, Violence, Weapons, fight au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:35:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 40,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22164181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Str4y/pseuds/Str4y
Summary: His palms were sweaty, matching the beads down his temples. He could feel himself struggling to catch his breath, fists in tight balls as he staggered back, keeping a slight bounce from the enthusiasm and adrenaline that coursed through him like a runaway train.“I don’t want this...”Neither did he, because who wanted to fight an innocent man to the death? Who in their right mind wanted this? Short answer was nobody. Absolutely nobody wanted this, but there was only one way out — fight!!!
Relationships: Hwang Hyunjin/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 150
Kudos: 252





	1. Match

**Author's Note:**

> **kim Woojin has been replaced with Day6’s YoungK

“Ten minutes.”

His palms were sweaty, matching the beads down his temples. He could feel himself struggling to catch his breath, fists in tight balls as he staggered back, keeping a slight bounce from the enthusiasm and adrenaline that coursed through him like a runaway train. 

“I don’t want this...” the man whispered. 

Breaths increased, body tense. He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to do this at all. But he didn’t have a choice. It was him or them. 

He had to win. 

“Eight min—“

The sound of fist colliding with jaw rang through his ears before he hit the ground, ears ringing as swing after swing hit his face. Part of him could have sworn he heard the crunch of bone, but he couldn’t tell if it was his own bone or from the man on top of him. 

Either way he was running out of time. And breath. And patience. 

He flipped them, the man growling up at him as he punched back, his own jaw sore beyond belief. He knew if he won it would be swollen for weeks. 

“Five.”

Time was running out. He needed to win. Otherwise they’d both lose. He had no choice. 

“I’m so so sorry.” His breaths were weak, voice staggering as his hands reached around the neck of the man he knew well. The man who was just trying to win just like him. Go home. Just like him. 

“Three.”

The struggle was intense. But somehow his blow to the man’s eye must have really blinded him. The man under was just crying, growling curses. But he could tell the man didn’t mean much harm. He never had. He knew this man. This wasn’t fair. 

“One.”

A few gasps and kicks and the man fell still under him, clutching at his wrists as hope left his eyes. 

“Match!”

The sickness that overcame him was too much. He could feel the uncomfortableness digging its way up his throat as his fingers released the discarded human. He was shaking. Misery taking over every bone as confetti spray around from the holes in the wall, coating over him and the deceased man below. 

He was sick. This was sick. 

“Winner——! Loser—!”

——

“So you’re positive about this concert tonight, right?” Seungmin laughed, glasses perched over his nose as his elbow hit Minhos rib, “Like you’re actually coming?”

Minho rolled his eyes with a laugh, elbowing the younger man back just as hard, “Yeah dude. I bought the tickets, didn’t I?”

Seungmin shot him a look before shaking his head, “last time you bailed.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” Minho responded with a frown, patting Seungmins messy brown hair, “but I’ll be here this time. Promise.”

“You swear?”

“Minnie, I’m going to kill you.”

Seungmin just laughed, shoving Minho off of the sidewalk playfully, “I’ll kill you first.”

“Wanna bet?” Minho snickered, hopping back onto the sidewalk to bump Seungmins shoulder, “you couldn’t hurt a fly.”

“And you could?”

“Touché.”

Seungmin was a good younger brother. Minho loved the kid a lot, they’d been best friends ever since the orphanage. Yeah, the orphanage. Minho’s life may not have started so well, but it wasn’t completely doomed. Especially since he had Seungmin. 

“Minho, blue?” Seungmin laughed, drying his own hair with a towel as Minho eyed the box of dye. 

“Yeah…”

“Okay but are you bleaching your hair too?”

Minho blinked, eyeing the box of some questionable bleach some sketchy woman in the convenience store aisle had recommended, “if I want the blue to look good…”

“You’re going to be a smurf. I know you’re not going to manage that on your own.” Seungmin signed, taking the box, leaning his spare hand against his hip, “it’s all in English, Minho—“

Minho pouted, snatching the box back, “I’ll watch a tutorial online!”

Seungmin couldn’t help the tiny grin across his face, “do you really need to dye your hair?”

“It’s our favorite band. I want to stand out!”

“Is it because of your crush on the guitarist?” Seungmin snorted, collapsing on the bed beside his brother, “you don’t need to go all out.”

“These tickets were expensive...I have to do it. What if we never see them again?” 

Seungmin turned, leaning his chin on Minho’s thigh, “we have seen them twice already if you don’t count the time you bailed. I’m positive you’ll see them again, idiot.”

Minho shook his head, opening the suspicious bleach packaging, “why don’t you stay and help me with this dye then?”

“I have a shift at work, otherwise I’d do it for you.”

“Why didn’t you call out like a normal person before a concert?” Minho sighed as Seungmin pulled himself back up. 

“We need the money, besides you’ll do fine...maybe.” 

Seungmin didn’t sound sure. Minho wasn’t sure he’d be able to do a good job either. But if he messed up at least it would look intentional. The drummer had about ten different colors in his hair, it would look fine regardless. 

“Well...good luck tonight. I’ll send you pictures before I meet you at the venue.”

“You won’t be there before me?” Seungmin laughed. 

“Ah, you know me!”

Seungmin shook his head as he grabbed his leather jacket, “just don’t bail.”

“I won’t. Last time I was just...nervous, you know?” 

“The guitarist is going to bend over for you regardless, Minho.”

Minho didn’t even have time to reply before Seungmin was out the door, his loud laugh echoing. Seungmin probably wasn’t wrong...not that Minho was conceited or anything. The guitarist was known for his…willingness to sleep with anyone.

Minho flopped backwards in the bed, holding the bleach in examination over his face. 

He’d fuck it up, for sure. 

——

“I’ll be there soon. Yes, yes. Seungmin I’m almost there I know I’m late.” Minho sighed, brushing his fingers through the messily dyed dark blue hair on his head, “I know. I got carried away and—no it's not /that/ blue.” 

He decided not to use the bleach. Thankfully his hair was still considerably blue. It looked good, he thought. 

Minho laughed into the phone, index finger tapping the case with the Polaroid of the guitarist proudly on display as Seungmin talked his ear off about how he’d missed the entire opening of the concert, “I’ll be there soon. I promise, bro.” 

He hung up, phone slipping into his back pocket as he shoved his hands into his jacket, shuddering at the cool air as he moved forward. He was always late. He always lost track of time. It was easy to do, anyways. Minho was always busy. Well, this time he’d just stalled on dying his hair. How Seungmin completed a half shift and still made it before him was...Minho needed time management skills. 

The rustling of autumn leaves underneath his feet was nice. The crisp air was nice too, despite his obvious lack of clothing appropriate for the fall. He hadn’t thought his attire through at all. 

“It’s so fucking cold…” Minho murmured, biting at his bottom lip. He should have left earlier. The eeriness of walking through the park at night was a little overwhelming. He didn’t know the area that well either. Honestly he was working with his memory of where the map on his phone had shown him earlier. 

Which was probably a stupid idea. 

Footsteps?

Sounds that weren’t his. Honestly, probably just another random pedestrian. But at this time of night? It gave Minho the shivers. He couldn’t even turn. Looking would be rude, right? 

He felt so uneasy, hands tight in his pockets as the wind whipped passed his face. He knew he had to be close. 

The footsteps only increased, growing closer and closer. He felt so nervous for some reason, everything inside of Minho was telling him to run the other way. 

But he was too slow. As soon as he even attempted speeding up he could feel a sharp pain in the back of his head. 

Panic. He didn’t ever think anything like this could happen to him. It felt so fast. Suddenly he was yelling out, smacking at whoever the fuck had pulled him to the ground, fists smashing against him. 

Was this a robbery?

Minho whined as the assailants fist met his cheek, blood filling his mouth. He immediately brought his hands over his face, the feeling of his own blood trickling down his chin giving him the worst anxiety he had ever experienced. 

“Take whatever you want!” He yelled out, shielding his face for an impending blow. He was shaking, anticipating the worst. Jesus Christ, what if this person had a gun? No. They didn’t have a gun. Minho felt a slight sharpness against his stomach, eyes peeking down to see the glint of silver. Oh fuck. They had a knife. 

Minho felt a hand slip into his back pocket, uncomfortable but he figured they just wanted his phone. It was new after all. 

Never fucking mind. The person smashed his phone hard into the ground repeatedly, knife twisting slightly, enough for Minho to whimper out in distress. 

Minho wanted to scream for help. But they were in a dark park. In the middle of the night. And this man had a knife to his stomach. He was frozen. If he even tried to move that knife would surely dig into him. 

“I—I don’t know what you want but I’ll give you whatever you want. Just please don’t…” Minho kept his hands over his face, trying his hardest to make out this persons features. 

It was useless. Black face mask, black sunglasses, hood over their head. There were no moles or freckles. No distinguishable markings. No wrinkles. Nothing. 

“P-please?” Minho was so worried he’d piss himself, the person on top adjusting themselves onto his stomach, blade still poking at his flesh, “I—anything.”

Minho wished the person would have spoken to him. Instead they reached into their pocket. 

A fucking gun. 

Minho really didn’t have any fucking chance to scream now. Instead he just let out panicked breaths, cold air stinging against the wetness around his eyes and cheeks, “don’t...don’t.”

The person tilted their head before pointing the gun straight at him. Minho couldn’t help but wrap his arms around his head, biting hard into his bottom lip. He was going to die. And for what? He wasn’t being robbed, clearly. He didn’t have any hits on him, right? He was just a fucking college student. He didn’t do anything? He just hung out with his friends and did his homework late. What the fuck was this for?

“Move your arms.” Their voice was muffled. Impossible to make out. “Move them or I’ll pull the trigger.”

Minho whispered at that, unable to conceal his terror as his arms shook in place. 

“I’ll give you ten seconds.”

He was fucking losing it. He couldn’t even process—

“Six seconds.”

“Please I...I swear I haven’t done anything!” He choked, he sounded so pathetic and small. He knew he did. 

“Three seconds.”

Minho moved his arms slowly, trembling as the gun moved between his temple. Suddenly he just wanted to scream. Even if he’d be shot after. He’d be shot anyways, right? 

“Good.”

He didn’t register much else. All Minho knew was the gun whipped him hard in the face a couple times before he got too dizzy to cry out, vision blurring before one more hard whack to the face. 

——

The light was bright. It was so fucking cold. It felt like metal was cooling his skin. Maybe he was dead. Maybe he was on an autopsy table. It felt like metal. Why would he be on metal like this? A hospital? Was he okay?

Minho shuddered as his eyes forced their way open, hopelessly scanning the empty room. 

Empty. It was so empty. There was a single bed off to the side, metal covered with the thinnest material Minho had ever seen. Too thin to warm him. 

He sat up, head spinning as he crawled back until he hit a wall, bringing his knees to his chest as he caught his breath. What was this? He must have been dreaming—or rather having a nightmare. His head was hurting so badly. He felt numb. Weak. Everything stung and he couldn’t focus. 

His face. 

His face stung so badly. Minho brought his fingers up, brushing along a bandage that covered over his cheek. Bandages. But this wasn’t a hospital. 

“What the fuck…” he whimpered as he glanced down at his clothes, his concert attire and jacket stripped of him. Shoes and socks gone. He was in the ugliest scrubs he’d ever seen. Some deep yellow shade that was aggravating to look at. He felt extremely violated, uncomfortable. Someone had dressed him. Someone had...he had been abducted. 

Minho pulled himself up along the wall, knees wobbly as he searched the room until finding a sole door. He knew it wouldn’t open. But his brain fucked up, told him that he could just open and leave. He reached for the handle, the feeling of tightness overwhelming him. Locked. Of course it was locked, brain. 

Panic. Panicking again, he tugged the handle again, breath growing rapid. He wanted out. Whatever this was, he wanted out. 

“Hello!?” He cried out, finally finding his voice as he banged his fist into the metal door. The worst part was that there were no holes. No window to see outside. Just a long metal door to a small metal room. 

Sickness was overcoming him. He wanted out so badly. 

“Please I don’t know what this is but please let me out!” Minho sounded so weak. He hated sounding this way, defeat overwhelming his senses, “hello? Is anyone else there…!?”

He banged his fist again, eyes flooding with tears at the sound of something slamming from outside. It was terrifying. So terrifying that he rushed from the door, cowering on the bed, arms ready to cocoon himself if he had to, again. 

“Hello?”

This voice was different. Some one he hadn’t heard before. It definitely wasn’t the man from last night. This voice had slight concern. 

“Hi, are you new?”

New? 

“You must be new.”

Minho shuddered at that, wrapping his arms around his legs as he buried his face, he didn’t even want to answer. 

“The first day...they always keep the door locked. They’ll probably open it for you tomorrow.”

First day? Minho couldn’t help but tremble at that. The first day...the first?

“I have to go now, just breathe.” The voice spoke before the sound of footsteps echoed. 

Minho didn’t know what to think of that. Or how to react. All he wanted was to know where he was, he should have asked. He should have asked what the fuck this was. Was he locked away? Was this a mental institution? He wasn’t...he wasn’t crazy or...sick? He was attacked. He hadn’t imagined that, right? 

It was quiet. Too quiet. It was frustrating. Overwhelming. And he was so tired. 

“Fuck…” Minho muttered, pulling the scratchy blanket over his shoulders, wrapping the best he could as cool metal cooled his freezing flesh. 

He was so exhausted. So scared and angry. His face was hurting so much. He was cold. Hungry. 

Was Seungmin okay? Did Seungmin think that Minho stood him up? Bailed? 

Minho curled up into himself the best he could. He wanted to explode. This was so irritating. He wasn’t even sure if banging on the door at this point was worth it. 

Locked for the day? 

Fuck. 

So he sat there, hands moving up into his blue locks, nails scratching into his scalp as he murmured curses. He wouldn’t cry. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t do that. He didn’t want to. He didn’t know where he was, or who was talking to him. He didn’t know anything and it hurt. He wanted out. He wanted out. 

——

The sound of hard metal being pushed startled Minho awake, large eyes scanning the dark metallic room to find no one. But his door was wide open. 

The door was open. Had it seriously been a day?

Minho took a moment before scrambling to his feet, hand clutching the fabric at his chest as he peered around the corner. 

It looked like he was in a hallway with two more doors on one side, one across from his. He must have been at the end of the hallway. The door across from his was shut. The other two wide open...

He glanced around, hall empty and quiet. Not a sound. He didn’t like that. 

Minho took a step out into the hallway, feet against the cool metal. Everything was metallic. Everything. The ceiling, the walls, the bed. Everything had been the same hard, and cold material. 

“What the hell…” he muttered, rubbing at his chest irritably as he started down the hall, he glanced into the two rooms that sat wide opened. Each empty. However they were decorated slightly. Each room had an interesting hooked section where...trophies hung? 

Minho shook his head, arms wrapping around his shoulders as he continued. The hall curved off to another hall. No doors in this one. 

He wanted the exit. The fluorescent lights were irritating him, and the metal walls glared in his direction.

Minho hurried down the hall before stopping as sound filled his ears. He could hear talking, laughing. Where the fuck was he? He approached cautiously, peeking around the corner as the sound grew loud enough. People. They seemed happy. They seemed…

Was he in a fucking prison? As soon as his eyes adjusted he could see tables with multiple men at each one. 

He must have been dreaming. Maybe he was dead. Maybe the man who attacked him in the park had killed him. Yeah. He was dead. Maybe this was Hell for that one time he stole Seungmin’s toothbrush.

“Hey newbie.” A pat on the shoulder and Minho let out an uncharacteristic scream, hitting the wall hard. 

Shit. 

The man laughed, tilting his head in disbelief as Minho gripped the wall behind for support, other hand across his chest that was heaving in shock, “hello again,” the man started, “looks like you’re in my hall, huh?” 

Minho glanced to the man’s name tag at his clothes. He was wearing that same ugly shade of yellow, “where am—“

The other man shook his head quickly, placing his index over his small lips, “its best if you don’t ask. Especially on day one. Just try to breathe.” 

“What the hell does that mean?” Minho whispered, pulling himself up. He was taller that this man, he shouldn’t have been so intimidated, “What is…”

The man was pointing up behind Minhos head, and he soon found out why. A camera. 

“Is someone?” Minho turned, the man just nodding with a small frown, “what the hell is—“ he stopped himself, biting at his bottom lip as he stared up into the camera. A camera. What the fuck?

“We can explain more when we aren’t in the...gen pop.”

Gen pop. That was a fucking prison term, right? Minho watched Orange, he knew. Fuck, he was in prison wasn’t he? 

“Am I in prison!?” Minho asked louder, voice painted in stress. 

The man turned towards the room Minho hadn’t gotten a good look at, “No, this is worse.”

That didn’t feel good. Where was he? What the fuck was this? Part of him wanted to scream. To fight and thrash at whoever was doing this. But Minho wasn’t stupid. If he panicked...whoever had put him here would surely hurt him, right?

“I’ll show you our table. Chan and Hyunjin are there. You’ll like them. Hyunjin was a lot like you except...he tried to kill me when we met.” The shorter man laughed, patting Minho at the arm before pulling back with a cough, “you’re not gonna try to kill me, right?”

Minhos eyes widened as he shook his head, lips patting to answer. But no words. He just couldn’t think of the proper things to say. 

“Good. Well...Chan and Hyunjin. I’ll introduce myself at the table since...we’ll probably be spending at least a week together…I hope.”

A week? Minho didn’t want to be here for a week. 

But he followed the man, arms crossed as he glanced at the tables around. Part of him was super pissed that others had nicer colored scrubs. Some blue. Some pink. His was fucking yellow. He hated that stupid color. This was clearly a cafeteria. It was all metal but each table had a colored mark at the end. Everyone was sat respectively. And everyone seemed to ignore him, which was surprising. 

Then he spotted them. Two men at the far back, one laughing and stuffing himself full as the other sat still, food untouched. 

Minho looked at each of them hard. One was a lot more built. Kind of like the shorter man he spoke to. The other was super slender, and as he turned, really pretty. Now that Minho really thought about it, everyone was decent looking. All young. Probably all his age...

“This is Chan,” the nameless man spoke, the man full of food in his mouth offering a happy wave and smile, “and this is Hyunjin.” 

Hyunjin turned briefly, side profile to die for as his eyes met Minhos. He seemed very...calm. Maybe he was on drugs. There was laziness to his movements, like he wasn’t there. Minho wanted whatever he was on. 

“Hyunjin is on some medication. It’ll wear off soon but,” Chan spoke, patting Hyunjins hand, “he’s not over the last one yet.”

Last what!?

“Chan, he’s new…” the shorter said before taking a seat besides Chan, leaving the empty space besides the catatonic man, “go easy.”

“I’m sorry...I’m just so used to the fourth leaving early. My bad.” Chan corrected as if he’d said something wrong, giving a tiny bow to Minho, “I’m Chan, again. I’m sorry if I...shit my bad.”

“Way to make friends with the newbie.” The shorter sighed, brushing his hand into his hair as he leaned on his elbow, “I’m Changbin, by the way. You’ll be seeing us a lot I hope, what’s your name?”

“Minho…” he wasn’t sure why he answered. 

“Oh shit you’re the one who was banging on the door last night!” Chan laughed then, “you seem so different I barely remembered our chat.”

So Chan’s the one who talked to him. 

“He was probably on meds, you know those make us crazy when we arrive,” changbin sighed, “sit. Join us, Minho. We can go get food in a minute I promise.”

Minho felt sick, but he quickly sat, discomfort filling his throat as hyunjin scooted away some. He clearly didn’t want to engage. That was fine.

“Where...can you tell me what this is?” Minho whispered then, crossing his arms at the table. He didn’t want to startle these men. Or raise any alarms than he must have with his screaming earlier, “I...am I dead or something?”

Chan crowned, “not quite…and don’t go trying to die either. We just lost—“

“Chan, don’t.” Changbin stopped, expression darkening, “I was going to wait to talk but...fine, we don’t exactly know what this place is either,” he turned to Minho again, “I’ve been here for five months.”

Minho wanted to vomit. He tightened his arms around himself, eyeballs twitching in their sockets as the two across watched him in absolute anguish, “five...?”

“He’s been here the longest of us. Most trophies, too.” Chan started, stuffing his mouth again, “I’ve been here for four months. Hyunjins been here for almost two months now.”

Oh fuck. Trophies? If he meant the ones from earlier...what the fuck were they for?

“This is a bad place,” changbin whispered, “but nobody here is bad. Remember that, okay? No matter what happens…”

Minho was getting overwhelmed. 

“Nobody is bad. Everyone is just as confused and hurt as you must be.” Changbin continued.

“Why am I here?” Minho choked out, voice shaky as he glanced to the table nearby. Red. Two at that table. Only two. They looked...out of it. 

“Nobody knows why any of us are here. At first I thought I was here because I was messing with drugs at the time,” Changbin started, “I thought it was a detention center.”

Clearly it wasn’t. 

“But it’s not. It’s worse.”

“Now look who’s scaring the newbie,” Chan snickered, “it’s bad but...everyone does what they have to.”

“What does that mean?” Minho asked, the sound of a tray slamming against the floor pulling his attention away from the table. 

A man was standing by a belt. A belt that held trays. There was no staff just...a belt of trays. 

“This is bullshit!” The man yelled, throwing another off of the belt, “he’s not dead! Bring him back!” He was wearing red. 

“Felix stop…” one of the men from the red table pulled up, rushing over to grab at the man’s hands. Other tables just stared. Nobody was snickering or laughing. Everyone seemed hurt. 

“I’m going to fucking kill that guy!” The man—felix, yelled, “he’s dead, Jisung!” The man holding him must have been Jisung. They looked younger than him. 

“He’s already dead...they killed each other. You know that.” Jisung yelled back. 

Minho felt his stomach lurch. And he felt dizzy. He needed to get up. He needed to leave—

“Don’t move.” A soft voice beside him spoke, fingers lacing around Minhos wrist, “he’s mad at this table. Don’t get up.”

“What do you mean?” Minho whispered back. 

“One of theirs and one of ours was matched yesterday.”

Minho stilled, he could see Changbin and Chan’s expressions somber. 

Matched?

“You’re taking his place. I guess...they haven’t gotten a replacement yet. But they will.”

What the fuck?

“What does that—?”

“I’m going to kill them all. I’m going to make them pay...Jisung!” The man was on his knees, sobbing into the ground. Nobody was moving. Nobody said anything. It was so quiet. 

“Welcome to Hell.” Hyunjins voice was unexpected, small. But Minho couldn’t even turn to face him, he was too bewildered.

After Felix was escorted hastily out by Jisung, Changbin finally pulled Minho towards the trays, the ones that were left that is. 

“This happens often,” he whispered, handing Minho a full tray as he picked the others off of the floor. 

“I can help—“ Minho started to bend down only to get waved off. 

“I got it, you need to eat.” Changbin sighed, gathering the food that was splattered on the ground, “I’ll meet you at the table. I have to talk to red anyways.”

Red. 

They didn’t seem to distinguish by name. Just color. Just like a fucking prison, instead of inmate numbers or last names they were colors.

Minho nodded, gripping his tray tightly before turning on his toes, head low as he walked passed the people who seemed to finally notice him, all watching him closely. 

“Newbie.” A voice he didn’t recognize had him stopped in his tracks, fingers trembling as he heard a chair pull out from behind, “take it easy, yellow. This happens a lot.” The person whispered, patting his shoulder with a weird care, “we lost someone the other day. Yellow did, too.” Minho wasn’t sure why this man was talking to him. 

“You have a good team. Two of the best are taking care of you. They’ve got tons of trophies to show for that. They’ll take care of you. What happened to...the others was a setback. But we’ll prosper.” He added, a soft smile crossing over his gentle features. He seemed harmless. Kind. 

Once the man walked passed, Minho noticed the red table had emptied. There were just three as the others had said, one had...died.

Minho sat quickly, hands still shaky. 

“Minho, what did Younghyun say to you?” Chan asked, actually saying his name this time, “you’re shaking…”

“Just...that your teams lost people. What does that mean? What happened to them? Why did...they died, right?” Minho was trying to keep his voice down, but he was so shaky, “they killed each other? Why…? What does that mean what do the trophies mean what is this!?”

“It's...like we said, we don’t know.”

“Bullshit,” Minho hissed, “that man said that two of you were the best. What does that mean?”

Hyunjin laughed, shaking his head, “just those two, huh?”

“Changbin and I,” Chan started, setting his fork down, “We, along with Younghyun have been here the longest. We have the most wins.”

“Wins?” Minho winced, clutching his fork tight, “wins for what?”

“Kills.” Changbin corrected. 

And Minho’s head started to spin. Had he heard that right?

Changbin settled besides Chan, no tray in sight, “Younghyun is the best. He’s been here a week longer than I have. He has the most wins. I’m second. Chan is third.” 

“What do you mean...kills?”

“You probably don’t have long before your first fight,” Chan whispered lowly. 

“What are you talking about?” Minho stammered. 

“We don’t know why or what the goal of this place is but...you get matched a few times a month. You go up against one of these lovely colors here and you have to...we have to fight to the death.”

Minho clasped his hand over his mouth. He hadn’t tried to eat yet, now he really couldn’t. 

“Everyone here is so...we all understand it with time.”

“Understand what?” Minho whispered. 

“That we’re all disposable trash.” Hyunjin whispered beside him, black long hair covering over his face as he leaned forward, “we’re just chess pieces to an unknown captor.”

“We don’t have a choice. Nobody does. That’s why I told you, everyone here is a good person—“

“You’ve killed people!?” Minho basically shouted, “that’s not a good—oh my god…”

“We don’t have a choice, Minho.” Hyunjin spoke. 

“Like hell you do!” Minho panicked, rising up from the chair as the men at the table shook their heads like he was in the wrong. 

“If we don’t, they kill both parties. The man whose room you’re in right now refused to kill that red. The red and Felix were best friends. Came in the same day. Inseparable.”

Minho shook his head, “no…”

“Yes. The red tried but when it came to the end, neither could do it. Our boy was so soft and...he was a newbie. He couldn’t do it.”

“Good thing we weren’t attached.” Hyunjin whispered under his breath. Which was odd considering they said he’d been drugged because of that guy who died. 

Minho didn’t like Hyunjin. He didn’t like this. 

“So...word of advice, you either fight or die. Those are our options.”

“How can you take it so easily…? This is—“

“Bullshit? Sure it is. But I’m trying to get enough matches so I can get out of here.”

Minho shook his head, how many fucking matches did they need to do to get out?

“Changbin…”

“No, he wants to survive he needs to know. After enough matches we can leave—”

“How do you—“

“The person I knew before Younghyun. He was here a long time. He got out. They let him waltz in with his clothes and let him say goodbye. He had like thirty kills under his belt. But apparently it differs per person.”

“That’s impossible I—why the fuck didn’t he report this place? How do you know he got out!?”

“Every once in awhile we get updates.” Hyunjin sighed, “He’s married and doesn’t remember a thing about this place.”

“How?”

“Tv.” Chan pointed behind Minho, a sole tv in the corner, “they show cctv of him. Proof that there’s a way out of here. Otherwise we’d off ourselves. Do you think any of us would be fighting if there wasn’t an end?”

“I can’t...no I. This isn’t real.” Minho laughed, gripping his blue strands of hair again, mind going wild with dark thoughts. 

“Minho...you’re already on the top tier team. People will fear you. You have the upper hand—“ Changbin sucked at being supportive. 

“I’m not doing this!” Minho slammed the chair into the table, “I have to get out of here…”

“They’ll sedate you.” Hyunjin chuckled, “they’ll sedate you so good. So go ahead.”

“They will.” Chan added. 

“Who is they...I can’t...I can’t do this.” Minho was hyperventilating. He was getting worried stares from the tables around him. 

“You won’t see them. They’ll just make you sleep, Minho.” Changbin frowned, tapping his own wrist. 

Minho whined out, shaking his head. No. Fuck this. 

“Minho, don’t be disposable.” Hyunjin whispered, “be a King, not a pawn.”

Minho was so dizzy. He couldn’t even remember stumbling back. He didn’t remember hitting the ground. He didn’t remember the ceiling moving as if he was being hauled away. 

He didn’t remember anything. 

All he knew is that he didn’t want to be a fucking pawn in this fucked up game.


	2. Entertainment

“How long?”

“Not too much longer. He should be up soon.”

“He’s going to be an issue, Isn't he?”

“Hyunjin don’t say that. You’re the one that needed to be on sedation to function—“

“Shut up. You know why.”

“You knew him for a week—“

“And?”

“You have a fucking suicide watch mark on your hand, Hyunjin! You can’t go calling others issues!”

Minho stirred awake, head heavy. He had never felt lighter. Like he was at a weird peace. 

“Shut up, he’s awake.” Chan whispered, Hands at Minhos hair, brushing through his strands comfortably. It felt nice. Reassuring. Minho was so light. 

“Newbie, you okay? They must have drugged you.” How? Changbin helped Minho upright, rubbing circles into his back. 

He didn’t know these people. And they were...they were murderers. He didn’t like this. He didn’t like them. Everyone was so blurry. 

“How…?”

“How what?” Hyunjin sighed, face finally adjusted in Minhos view. 

“How did they...drug me?” Minho was so light, he kept falling backwards, Changbin constantly having to push him back upright, “How?”

“We have implants. While we sleep they gas our rooms and fill them weekly. They have tiny needles that they can control from wherever they are to inject this shit into us...I’ve had mine used a few times.” Chan huffed, pointing to his wrist where there was a very obvious scar, “and don’t think about removing them. They monitor them. So if you try you’ll never even notice you’ve passed out.”

Minho shivered at that, head still so fuzzy. 

“Your first night, you passed out after banging on the door, right?”

Minho nodded, finally feeling warmth hit his back. Changbin was behind him, probably tired of constantly holding him up. 

“They probably gassed you to get you to sleep. They do that a lot. Hyunjin was gassed the other night too, when our other teammate died.”

Minho muttered under his breath. Not even he knew what he was saying at this point. Everything just felt so light. So heavy...yet so light at once. 

“He was important to me. We started to bond. His name was —.” It was weird. Hearing Hyunjin flip flopping between caring and not giving a shit. 

Minho just nodded, eyes fluttering shut as he felt a hand soothing at his shoulder. He was so tired. 

——

“Nobody has ever seen them?”

“No. They never come down when anyone is awake.”

“How do they deal with...suicides or fights?”

Changbin crossed his arms over his lap, “they gas everyone. And by the time we wake they’re gone.”

“...why the matches?”

“Nobody knows, but...you’ll probably be having your first soon.”

“I’ve only been here a day…” Minho whispered, picking at the hem of his shirt, “and I...I can’t kill someone.”

“If you don’t, we just lose another teammate. And they’ll bring someone else in.”

“How do you do it? Five months is...it’s still a long time to be doing this? And you have...no idea when this will end?” 

“I have a lot to live for. At this point I would have wasted months killing innocent people all for nothing…” Chanbin frowned, “I just want to go home.”

“I don’t see how it’s worth it…” Minho frowned, “what’s stopping me from...offing myself, you know?”

“Nothing if you’re quick enough.” Hyunjin replied.

Minho shook his head, biting down at his lip, “killing people to survive is...it’s sick. What’s the point? It’s not like they’re putting bad people in here, right? The worst I’ve done is stolen a lighter for my friend seung—“ he stopped, knees at his chest, “I’m not a bad person.”

“None of us are.” Changbin replied, “we’re all just trying to make it.”

“Why don’t we rise up?”

Changbin laughed, “they tried. When I first got here they had cleaned the entire house.”

Minho shook his head, “bullshit.”

“Only two teams refused to join in their uprising. Red and Orange. Me and two others from blue. Everyone else, cleaned out.”

“You were alone?”

“I had a nice grace period. My first month I didn’t have to fight anyone.”

Minho frowned, “they did that?”

“There weren’t enough bodies. They had to..restock. Like Hyunjin said, we’re very disposable. People are disposable. They can take us out and bring us in as often as they please. But...I guess they wanted more time to find good candidates for their sick game.”

“Nobody knows why we’re here?” Minho asked, pulling Changbins pillow to his chest, a pillow he learned Changbin had earned after his third kill.

“Nope. I don’t think anyone will ever find out. This shit has been going on for so long...The guy that got out had been here for a long time...people before him had too.”

“I just...Why me?”

“Wrong place, wrong time I guess. You said you got taken at a park right?” Changbin huffed. 

“Yeah…”

“I was taken from my school. Broad daylight. They don’t seem to care.”

“How have you done this for so long?”

“My team...they helped me through it.”

“They didn’t get out, did they?”

“The only person I’ve seen get out is that guy. Top guys get favor here. He was well liked and reached his max. So they cut him loose.”

“Why haven’t you been matched against Younghyun?”

Changbin eyed Minho, “they don’t like to pin their top boys against each other. I usually get...lots of newbies. Younghyun does too, it’s like they make it easier as time goes on.”

“Nobody looks...beat up?”

“Some of us have scars. Did you see how some tables had less members than others?”

“I wasn't really...I was only focused on red.” Minho admitted. 

“Lots of people stay in medical for a bit. They delay fights until members are capable.”

“So...I could just hang out in medical?” Minho laughed, rubbing the back of his neck, “I don’t...how am I going to do this?”

“I’ve only been to medical a couple times. It just delays your stay. You get to see some of the staff I guess...they’re all covered but it...it’s nice. But you don’t want to end up there. It’s painful and...you only end up there if you win. If you lose, you go to the morgue.”

“Can I pretend I’m dead?” Minho whispered, hugging his knees tight, “you know?”

Changbin just smiled, patting Minhos knee before pulling himself upright, “that wouldn’t go well. From what I’ve heard those who died in medical go straight to incineration with the losers.”

“Our bodies don’t even go home?”

“I doubt it. There’s a chance that they might dump the deceased somewhere but...I haven’t heard.”

“Wait how do they stay hidden? What do they say about us?”

“We have a TV, remember? People go missing and they like to play it for us. Newbies usually freak out seeing their faces on the screens. Their parents faces too…”

“...how many newbies came in with me?” Minho shuddered at the thought of seeing his face cross the screen. He didn’t have parents...not really. He had Seungmin. He was his best friend, his brother. Seungmin was all the family he had. He didn’t want to see Seungmin. He’d die. 

“None yet. You came...very quickly.” Changbin spoke before sliding out the door, “it was a little alarming to see a new face so soon but...we’ll take care of you. Just win that fight, okay? They’ll give a couple weapons for you to pick beforehand. Choose well, Minho.”

——

They didn’t drug them that night. Minho couldn’t sleep. He just sat in his bed, staring at the ground as thoughts took over. 

He should have gone to the concert earlier. Then he’d probably be home instead of here in a cell...well, sort of a cell. His door was opened. He could see directly across the hall from his bed. He could see Hyunjin settled on the floor, drawing or writing — Minho wasn’t sure. 

All he knew was that he couldn’t sleep. And neither could Hyunjin. As off putting as Hyunjin was earlier, maybe he was just trying to cope. Minho liked Changbin and Chan enough, maybe Hyunjin wasn’t so bad. 

“Psst!” Minho hissed, crawling to his door, watching as Hyunjin raised his brow, “hyunjin…?”

“What?” The other man replied, not even sparing a glance. 

“Are we allowed to leave the rooms at night?”

“They lock the doors at the end of the hall with mechanisms. So we can roam around if we want to. They just lock our doors for gassing.” Hyunjin spoke, voice so low. 

“Can I...come over?” Minho asked, staying at his door, fingertips gripping the wall, “I can’t sleep and...I’m worried. When will they make me fight?”

Hyunjin didn’t answer, he just patted the inside of his room at the floor, the sound ringing in Minhos ears. 

He figured that was an invitation. He crept over quietly, glancing to the red x mark on Hyunjin’s hand before settling beside him, eyes peeking at the artwork. 

He must have been an artist. It was so beautifully sketched. A bridge. With a beautiful sunset with the best color scheme that Minho had ever seen it was just beautiful. 

“I can’t sleep either. But I’m not begging to be drugged at all so...I’ll probably be up all night,” hyunjin spoke, continuing his art piece. 

“You’ve been here a couple months...you have three trophies…” Minho murmured as his eyes scanned the wall. It was interesting. The decor. He had lots of sketches on his wall. Lots of sunsets of different shades, “why do you draw sunsets so much?”

Hyunjin laughed under his breath, “you ask a lot of questions, he slid the drawing away with a sigh, “it’s the last thing I remember before coming here. I was with someone and the sun was setting. And then I woke up here.”

Minho frowned, “I’m sorry.”

“We all woke up here after nice things.”

“Not me.” Minho murmured. 

“Well, it would have been nice. You’re the idiot who walked around at night.”

Minho rolled his eyes, scanning the trophies hung at the wall. They had names...colors. One pink, one green, one red. 

“I was just meeting a friend for a concert. I was running late…” 

“You shouldn’t have been out alone at night.”

“You shouldn’t have been hanging out in broad daylight with a friend then.” Minho shot back, shaking his head in annoyance. He decided that he didn’t like Hyunjin. 

Hyunjin clicked his tongue, pulling himself into his bed, “I’m sorry if I seem mean. I don’t want to get close to anyone else on this team, okay? You’ll last a week and I’d rather you think I’m a dick than a friend.” 

“I’ll last longer…”

“You have to kill,” hyunjin brushes his fingers over his medals, “can you do that? Can you really kill people?”

“You did. Chan and Changbin did!?” 

“Those two are fucking muscle heads. I have anger issues. What have you got? You’re so soft spoken and doe-eyed that you couldn’t hurt a fly—“

“I grew up in an orphanage. I can fight if I have to.” Minho glared.

Hyunjin stilled, “Maybe you do have a chance then. Just...heads up, don’t pick the guns. Always go for knives. Always.”

“Guns—?”

“You can go. I’m actually going to try and sleep. I’ll see you for the showers in the morning—“

“Showers?”

“Goodnight Minho.” Hyunjin waved him off, curling into his metal space, pulling a long blanket over his body. 

Minho wished he had a blanket. And a pillow. Anything to help him sleep. 

——

“You didn’t sleep?” Chan sighed, tapping at Minhos door, “it’s our turn at the showers so come on.”

Minho whined as he turned towards the wall. No he hadn’t slept. All night he was up, brain muddled with thoughts. Thoughts about Seungmin, why he was here, how long he’d been missing. 

“You don’t need to bring anything. We get new clothes each time,” Chan continued, tapping Minhos shoulder instead, “if you miss the time we’re given you don’t get a shower till tomorrow. Is that what you want? To smell and have everyone stare?” Chan laughed, crouching now, “come on, Minho.”

“Fine…” Minho growled, pulling himself up from the cool metal. How did anyone sleep like this? 

“Hyunjin told me that you might have a chance when your first fight comes up.” Chan smiles, he was trying to be nice. Minho could see that in his expression. 

“Yeah...I don’t want to do this but I don’t have a choice, do I?”

“You do, but you smell. Now come on. Let’s go.”

Minho watched as Chan exited his room, pulling himself up with a groan. He didn’t really want to shower with these guys. He didn’t want to be this facilities pet. He didn’t want that. But he also wanted to shower. God, he hoped the water was hot at least. 

——-

It was like they opened new rooms daily. This one had been shut before, or maybe Minho just hadn’t noticed. There was a yellow mark at the door, like a sticker. That must have meant it was their shower. He wondered how long they had.

“There are four stalls. Completely private.” Changbin explained, handing Minho an ugly yellow towel, “just pick which one and everything you need is there. Shampoos, soaps, new clothes are in here.” Changbin tapped a cabinet above, a little too high for the man to reach properly, “you can find your name on your set.”

“Is the water hot?” Minho asked, brushing fingers through his hair. 

“You wanna wash that pretty blue color away?” Chan teased, ruffling Minhos hair before dragging his uniform down, “use cold.”

“Cold?” Minho arched his brow, “why would I freeze myself?”

“To keep the color?” Chan laughed, “is that your first dye job? If you use hot it’ll fade.”

“I don’t really care…” Minho mumbled, “I only dyed it for where I was going before I—it was a concert.”

“Ah,” Chan patted Minhos hair once more, “well, yeah. We can adjust the temperature. The people here at least let us enjoy our showers.”

Minho huffed, reaching for his uniform, tugging down Changbins as well, the shorter nodding to him with a satisfied smile. 

“Where’s Hyunjin?”

“He’s already in his stall. He likes to get in fast and spend his entire time in there till the alarm goes off.” Changbin explained, “Chan and I think he just likes to get himself off.”

Minho coughed at that. 

“He liked to go with the other guy into the same stall, you know?” Changbin wiggled his brow teasingly before sliding passed without touching him, taking the first stall at the left. They seemed to shower in their room order...the one across from Hyunjins was still available. 

Minho sighed as he made his way to the stall, setting the clean clothes down at the small stool that sat outside the shower. It was glass, which wasn’t all that private, but the stall shut from top to bottom at least. Minho closed the door, realizing there wasn’t really a lock. 

Not that private. 

“Lovely…” he murmured, pulling the ugly yellow over his head before turning to see a mirror settled over the sink. Of course there was a mirror. 

Fuck. 

He could see the bruise on his face from being hit. Jesus Christ...why the hitting? He brought fingers to his cheek, feeling the slight raise. At least it didn’t sting. 

Minho sighed, pulling his pants to the ground before turning the water on. It was instantly warm. A really nice temperature that Minho couldn’t resist hopping into immediately, shuddering as the water washed over his cool skin. Everything was so cold. He wished they’d at least given them sweaters or something. This was the first warmth he’d felt in the past few days. Fuck, even in the park he was cold. 

This was too nice. He didn’t want this to end. He could stay here forever. He didn’t want this...situation he was in. He didn’t want to have to fucking kill someone. Someone who was probably as innocent as he was. Someone just as scared. Minho wasn’t a fucking killer. He had barely fought at the orphanage. He lied about that. He didn’t know how to fight. 

He sighed as he scrubbed the shampoo through his hair, vanilla aroma filling his nose. He didn’t want this. Any of it. 

“See you back at the hall, Minho!” A loud tap to his door and a laugh from Changbin. He must’ve finished. 

Minho wasn’t even nearly done. He didn’t want to leave. He liked this. He liked the comfort of the shower. It was so warm he didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want to leave. He didn’t. 

“Minho.”

Hyunjin. 

Minho washed the shampoo out, taking what looked like cleanser or something? He hoped it was for his face at least.

“Minho you’re still in there?”

Minho huffed, washing his face before adjusting the heat of the shower, “what? I thought this was supposed to be private?”

“It is.” Minhos door swing open. For fucks sake. 

“So can you leave me alone?” Minho growled, scrubbing himself with the washcloth that came with his towel, “I’ll be out soon.”

“What I said last night—“

“It’s not a big deal.” Minho hissed then, seriously he didn’t care right now. He just wanted his time with the heat. 

“Chan told me I should be nicer to you. It’s not your fault you’re their replacement.”

Minho winced, turning to see Hyunjins frame outside the shower door. Thank god the glass was too foggy to see anything. 

“We should probably act like a team. The friendlier we are, the more luck we have.”

“It’s been a day. It’s fine.” Minho sighed, turning the water off. Clearly Hyunjin wasn’t going to leave. 

“It’s not fine. Don’t fucking lose, Minho.” Hyunjin whispered, pushing Minhos shower door open, hand holding the yellow towel. Jesus Christ. 

Minho snatched it quickly, wrapping it around his waist with a huff, “I won’t.” Honestly? He wasn’t sure what the fuck he was going to do. 

“Those two haven’t been able to keep a newbie longer than a month,” hyunjin spoke as Minho pulled open the shower, slipping out passed him to sit at the stool his towel had sat before, “they try but...they’re too absorbed in one another.”

“Are they a thing?” Minho huffed, using the smaller towel that rest on a hook to dry his hair, scratching through the blue that he was sure would wash out from ignoring Chan’s advice. 

“No. They’re just close. There’s a reason Younghyun didn’t include me. He’s probably waiting for me to die.” Hyunjin laughed, leaning on the door. He wasn’t going to fucking leave. 

“I’m sure he just meant they’re seasoned or whatever…”

“They’re a killer duo. We need to stick together.”

“Why?” Minho sighed, “what’s the point? I’m a ‘newbie’ or whatever so you know that I’ll probably be put up against people who are months into this shit.”

“I’ll let you in on a secret, Minho.” Hyunjin crouched down, eyes glued to Minhos. He was so fucking close to him, “they monitor us 24/7.”

“No shit…”

“If they see us together, sticking like glue, the chances of them trying to extinguish goes down.”

“What are you talking about?” Minho arched his brow. 

Hyunjin put either hand at the stool, angling himself so much closer to Minho, head tilting and hair covering his eyes, “if they see that we’re close we have a better chance to make it. They’ll match us better.”

“I don’t—“

“Right now the cameras are watching us.”

Minho glanced to the side. Of fucking course there was a camera. There was nothing private about this. 

“They’re watching right now,” Hyunjins voice was low, hand reaching to brush against Minhos cheek, oh? “If they see how close we are...they’ll take that into consideration. The other guy didn’t cooperate. I tried but...he wasn’t interested. And now he’s dead.”

“Are you seducing me?” Minho scoffed, unmoving. 

“If it keeps us alive, sure.” Hyunjin whispered, fingertips trailing to Minhos lips, “I don’t know about you, but I want to live. You know those two reds from the cafeteria, Felix and Jisung? They’ve been here longer than me. They’re always matched with weak opponents because they’re fucking.”

Minho flushed, eyes darting from Hyunjins. 

“You think those two little things would last in fights? They get treated because they’re entertainment.”

“You want me to entertain them?”

“The more entertaining you are, the longer you live. Guarantee if Jisung leaves Felix he would be as good as dead.” Hyunjin cooed, index pressing hard at Minhos bottom lip, “they watch everything.”

“They’ll be easy on me?”

“They’ve been easy on me...up until that stupid asshole you replaced told me enough. And now he’s dead, so what’s that tell you?”

“How can I trust you?”

“You can’t.”

“How do I know you don’t do this with all of them?”

“There have only been two while I’ve been here. Well, three. In a month. Your odds don’t look so good.”

Minho shook his head in disbelief, swallowing hard as Hyunjin inched closer, “so you want to use me?”

“We’ll be using each other.” Hyunjin whispered, eyes glazing in what seemed to imitate lust. 

“What if it doesn’t work?”

Hyunjin smirked, rubbing his finger along Minhos lip, “it works for Jisung and Felix. It’ll work for us. Just trust me and we can get out easy.”

“They can’t hear us?” Minho pondered, sliding a hand up to Hyunjins chest, pushing him back slightly, “can they?”

“No. Just see as far as we know. Believe me...Chan’s said some very questionable shit they’ve ignored.” 

Minho took a deep breath. Using someone. It wasn’t something Minho had ever done. But in this case it was worth a shot, right? And it wasn’t like Hyunjin was ugly. Honestly he was fucking beautiful. Minho knew he was attractive but hyunjin? He held such a different beauty to him. Minho couldn’t quite grasp it. But he leaked of visuals. 

“What do you say?” Hyunjin moved his hand from Minhos lips, watching him closely. 

Minho smirked to himself.

Why the hell not? 

He leaned forwards, fingers moving to curl around Hyunjins delicate face, pulling him in to graze their lips together. Minho had kissed people plenty of times. This wasn’t new. Not this part, not at all. Minho could feel the tiniest smile at Hyunjins lips as he pressed them together, thumbs caressing warm skin. Warmth. Maybe he could use Hyunjin for more than survival. He was warm. He ran hot. 

“Yes?” Hyunjin pulled away a second, licking his lips in anticipation. 

Minho just pulled him back, parting his lips along Hyunjins to take in his taste. It was nice. Hyunjins kisses were nice. The soft touch at his thigh was nice too. Maybe this wasn’t the worst idea. 

“Alarm.” Hyunjin broke the kiss, faint buzzing filling Minhos ears, “we should go.” 

Minho let out a slight laugh, biting at his bottom lip as he glanced up to the camera. If Hyunjin was telling the truth and not just playing Minho, he would milk the fuck out of this. If he could get out easy...he’d do whatever he had to. He had to go home. Get out of here. 

——

“Welcome back. You take just as long as Hyunjin.” Chan laughed, plopping down at Minhos bed, fingers laced at his lap as he watched Minho closely, “So...you’re an orphan? Did you ever get adopted out?”

Minho brushed fingers through his drying hair, “Ah, no. They kicked me out when I became an adult. I’ve been on my own ever since.”

“How’d you manage?”

Minho took a deep breath, “Seungmin.”

“He’s the one you were meeting, right? Were you two dating?”

“No.” Minho laughed, taking a seat besides Chan, “he’s like my little brother. He got stuck in the system too, we’ve just looked out for each other ever since. I’m kind of...I was his support.”

“How old is he?”

“He’s not like a kid. He just turned nineteen…” Minho rest back against the metal wall, “I’m only a couple years older.”

“How old? Almost twenty two, here.” Chan laughed. 

“You’re just a little older than me then. I’ll be twenty one soon.” Minho huffed, “I’m going to miss my birthday in here.”

“Well, you’re not alone. I’ve got maybe a few days before mine.”

Minho smiled at that, “October? Me too.”

“Yeah. Early. I can’t imagine what my family is doing right now...I hope they wait for me...I remember seeing the first news reports. My mom was...I’m from overseas so she was way more worried than I’d ever want. The last thing a parent wants to hear is that their kid went missing in another country.”

“Where are you from?” Minho asked curiously. 

“Australia. I came here for studies...was staying with an uncle.” Chan frowned, “I didn’t think I’d wake up here after taking an exam. What a shitty way to go. They couldn’t wait till after my date with that really hot girl from English.”

Minho laughed, resting his head against the metal wall, “a test? Do you remember it happening?”

“Not really. I just passed out after the test. I had my date later in the night so I just...I was relaxing. And then I woke up here.”

“I wish they would have taken me after the concert instead of attacking me in a park…” Minho winced, “Seungmins probably worried sick…”

“Well...when we go out for dinner later they’ll probably have the TV running…”

Minho shook his head, “Can I skip it?”

“You can but...they might take that opportunity to force you into another fight if you don’t make it.”

“I thought they were considerate.” Minho joked, shaking his head. 

“They can be but...you’re new. They have no reason to be nice to you.”

Hyunjin. Hyunjin was the reason now. 

“I guess I should go then, huh? How much longer?”

Chan glimpsed at his watch, another perk from all those wins, “we have breakfast soon. We could head down now and line up — you can maybe mingle with the other teams?”

“Is that allowed?”

“Younghyun is close to us. Honestly, red team and yellow rarely get matched...I think the thing with Hyunjin and that guy kinda screwed our guy in the end. Red just...he couldn’t do it either. They just didn’t cut it.”

Minho frowned, “how can I talk with people trying to kill me?”

Chan looked up to the camera, “the more friends you have the better,” Minho looked too, “Changbin and I are like best friends. And Younghyun’s nice to us. They love us. Love how many wins we’ve got. They’d never put us against him…”

“Entertainment?”

“Pretty much. Some of those guys are so small there's no way they’d make it against us. How do you think they’ve avoided matching us?”

“Entertainment.” So Hyunjin was right. 

“It’s shitty but the more entertaining and friendly we are, the better our chances. People who close themselves off or get aggressive towards opposing teams...they don’t last.”

“So we should make friends with red?”

“I’m already great friends with red.” Chan laughed, patting Minhos hair, “you need to make some friends though. I know it’s hard but…” Chan sighed, giving Minho a worried look, “there’s no way out unless you win.”

Minho just nodded, remaining silent until the elder male left him to go bother Changbin. 

Win. Live. Friends. 

He could do that. He would do it. He had no choice. 

“Minho.” Hyunjin was at his door, worry plastered over his face, “You need to come see this.”


	3. Gun

“Another newbie. Just a couple weeks old…” Chan huffed, biting at his thumb, “at least it’s someone new...but fuck.”

“What color?” Hyunjin asked, staying close to Minho, breath warm against his neck. 

“White. That team is...they’re not that good at keeping members.” Changbin added, finger glazing over the screen that had appeared in the hall before the cafeteria, “you’re lucky, Minho.”

He didn’t feel that lucky. He felt sick. 

“Very lucky.” Hyunjin whispered, so close he was touching Minho now, “I wonder why they took mercy.”

Minho knew why. It was Hyunjin. Even if this was terrifying...Hyunjin was right. He’d helped Minho out. Even with just a kiss...

“Jisungs got a match today, too. You’re lucky you didn’t get paired with him.” Chan announced. 

“Isn’t he a twig?” Minho asked. 

“Was. He’s beefed up at the gym. Still small and gets easy matches but...he’s got enough willpower that he could bash your face in.” Chan sighed, “anyways...your fight is during lunch so eat well, okay? And...don’t choose the gun.”

“Why not?”

“I told him that, too.” Changbin laughed, “the gun is bad news.”

“Guns sound nice...don’t they?” Changbin and Chan exchanges worried glances. Minho must have sounded like an idiot. 

“It’s not sunshine and rainbows. The gun always jams. And usually your opponent has the upper hand. You’ll be killed before you get the chance to fix the gun.” Chan spoke, patting Minhos hair again. He did that a lot. 

“We should go eat.” Hyunjin whispered, grabbing Minhos hand. Minho noticed how Changbins eyebrow raised at that, but Changbin must have known, right? 

It was survival, wasn’t it?

——

“Minho, right?” One of the reds from the other day, “I’m Jisung, Younghyun said you were new...just wanted to say hi.”

He was cute. He seemed harmless, too. 

“I don’t know if the others told you but...we stay close to avoid getting matched.”

“They told me,” Minho replied. He had just gotten to the trays, Jisung asking Chan to leave so he could talk alone with him. 

“So...let’s try to stay close. We got our new one today...try to make him comfortable?”

“I’ve been here a day…”

“two days now,” jisung corrected, “just...it’d be best to calm him down. The last thing I want is to lose another red. Just...tell him it will be okay? He’s shaky.”

“I was shaky too—“

“Did Younghyun not talk to you?”

Minho nodded in realization, “I see. I...Yeah I can talk to him…”

“We’re kind of...a big team of eight. The match the other day...it was a ...”

“Flaw. Hyunjin told me why the match happened.”

“Felix doesn’t blame you. Or anyone. He was just upset...he was close to our red.”

“What was his name?”

Jisung shook his head, “when they leave its best to forget they had names. It makes it easier.”

“It seems cruel…”

“It’s all kind of cruel,” jisung laughed, glancing towards the tables, “good luck today by the way...they seem to like you. Usually newbies get matched with higher profiles. You must be doing something right.”

Minho shot a glance to Hyunjin who had turned in his chair, eyes focused on Minho. Yeah, something right. 

“Oh...there he is now!” Jisung whispered, grabbing Minhos sleeve to drag him towards the entrance, trays in hand. 

This kid was...he was so shaky. So wide eyed. So terrified. Minho could see it all over his face. He was so little...like he must have barely been an adult, he was a fucking kid?

“How old is he?” Minho whispered before Jisung reached the table, Hyunjins eyes never leaving Minho. 

“Eighteen,” jisung murmured as the younger boy took a seat beside Younghyun, eyes shaky and breaths rapid, “Hey Jeongin, this is Minho. He’s new too.”

The younger boy, Jeongin, could barely move. Whatever he was feeling was...way worse than what Minho had. This kid looked like he would crack at any moment. 

“Hi Jeongin.” Minho whispered, offering the kindest smile he could muster. All he wanted to do was scream. He was so fucking young, “I uh…” he glanced to Younghyun who just offered a kind smile back, “you’ll be alright, okay?”

“No I won’t. I’m going to die…” Jeongin laughed, wiping at his eyes. He was too young for this. Too small. 

“You won’t...your team will take care of you and...mine will too.” Minho wasn’t sure about that. Not one bit. 

“I don’t….”

Jeongin just shook his head, Jisung patting Minhos arm, “just keep an eye on him. If newbies stick together they usually have a better chance in here,” jisung whispered before taking his seat, “I’ll talk to you after our matches, Minho.”

Jisung seemed so sure Minho would win. 

“Minho.” Hyunjin called out, tapping the seat until Minho gave a quick bow to the table, settling besides Hyunjin quietly, “your match is lunch time, right?”

Minho nodded, eyes darting to the table of reds. 

“You better win. I’ll give you a treat if you do.” Hyunjin whispered leaning in way too close, causing Chan to give a huff that caused Minho to turn. 

“Really Hyunjin?”

“You want a strong team or not?” Hyunjin snickered, looping an arm around Minhos neck as his face nuzzled against him fondly. 

Minho didn’t mind. Hyunjin was warm. 

“Just don’t do anything you don’t want to, Minho. Hyunjin can be…” Chan eyed him close, Hyunjin just smirking in reply. 

“No...it makes sense.” Minho flushed, taking a bite of his food as Hyunjins warm lips pressed against his jaw, “entertainment…”

“Still.” Chan glanced over to the table, “I hope that kid is as lucky as you.”

“What do you mean?”

Chan shot Hyunjin a look before picking at his food, “he’s terrified. They’re not going to like that if he doesn’t calm down.”

“He just got here...I was the same way?” Minho shuddered, Hyunjins lips brushing against his ear. 

“The only reason you weren’t pinned against someone bigger is because of that one.” Chan pointed right at hyunjin, who stuck his tongue out in reply, “they treat newbies like trash...we really gotta keep an eye on that kid.”

“Our own come first.” Changbin sighed, setting his tray down beside Chan’s, “they made it easy for you, Minho. Don’t fuck it up today.”

“I won’t.” He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“I won’t.”

——

How had he stayed so calm earlier. He was shaking, staring at the metallic wall. Maybe it would open to a secret passage that would let him go home. Maybe he’d wake up from this nightmare soon. Maybe he just needed to lose and die. 

It was just now hitting him. What was about to happen. He had just minutes before he had to go down the hall to another fucking door. One that, according to Changbin, led to the arena area. He’d choose a weapon and then he’d have to fight some innocent kid till one of them was dead. 

He was shaking. He wasn’t ready. He didn’t want to do this. 

“Minho.” Slender arms wrapped around, Hyunjins scent in his nose as the man settled behind him, “don’t lose.”

“I can’t do this…” Minho shuddered, burying himself back into the heat. 

“You don’t have a choice.”

“I can’t kill someone.”

“If you don’t, they’ll kill you.”

“What’s the point...I don’t want to do this.”

“Minho,” Hyunjin moved, settling in front of him, “you have to. If you lose they’ll match me with someone better than me too.”

“Hyunjin…”

“If you lose, you die. You realize that, right?” Hyunjin was caressing his face again. It was so warm. 

“Our matches are set when we come in. Nobody knows how many we need to get out but...maybe yours is low? Maybe mine is low…”

“Chan and Changbins aren’t low…” Minho whispered, “I can’t do it.”

“Do you want to die?”

“No…” Minho admitted, shivering in Hyunjins grasp. How they hadn’t drugged him was...appalling. 

“Just...win, okay? We’re going to take care of you. Just win.”

“Why do you care so much? Just get another teammate…”

Hyunjin pressed a quick kiss to Minhos lips, a sigh leaving Minhos as he pulled off, “I want to avoid that. Plus, you’re too hot to be killed off like that. Just win. It’ll be worth it.”

“Killing someone...is never worth it.”

Hyunjin turned his head to the door with a sigh, “you need to go. Please listen to what I said...don’t die. And don’t pick the fucking gun.” Hyunjin whispered, placing tiny kisses at Minhos cheek before sliding off of the bed, settling into his bed with sketchbook in hand. 

He wasn’t ready.

——-

Minhos hands shook as he entered the room. It was dark and all he saw before him was a box. He assumed those were...they were. Minho shook his head in disgust as he reached the case, the silver gun sparkling in his view. It was tempting. It was so tempting. Because his only other option was...ridiculous. This was a joke. 

Don’t pick the gun. 

Minho was about to cry. 

Don’t pick the fucking gun. 

A spoon. He had a silver spoon and a gun. What the fuck kind of sick joke was this?

“Why?” Minho whispered, grazing his fingers over the gun. Honestly...part of him didn’t believe his team. Wouldn’t his opponent choose the gun?

Minho let out a shaky breath, biting down hard at his bottom lip. 

Don’t pick the gun, Minho. 

“Shit…” 

——

Minho felt like an idiot. He was standing in this metallic room across from someone he’d never met. This person was holding the gun. So tightly. He was going to die, wasn’t he? He made a mistake. 

“Match in 3–“

The voice was robotic. It was abrupt. Minho just shook his head, peering up to the man in white who looked satisfied. Like he’d already won. Maybe he had. He had a fucking gun. 

“2—“

“You picked the spoon?”

Minho thought this would be easy. 

“You’re an idiot.” They growled. 

“1—match start.”

Minho didn’t move. Neither did the other man. 

But within seconds the gun was raised, the white just shaking his head as he seemed to feel little remorse, “I’m sorry. You should have chosen the gun. Made it fair.”

Minhos breath hitched as the gun raised too high for his liking, “I—“ he stopped, spoon tight in his hands. 

The gun will jam. 

He had time before the gun jammed. He could stop him before. He could stop this. He could get the gun away. He could. 

“I’m sorry. I wanna go home.” The other said shakily, finger at the trigger, “I’m so—“

Minho didn’t have time. He ran forward, shoving the man to the ground as the trigger clicked. 

No bullet. No sound. 

“What the fuck!?” The man yelled, hitting Minho hard in the head with the gun as they both smacked against the metallic floor. Maybe he should have chosen the gun anyways, the pain of metal against his head stung.

Jammed. The gun was at least jammed. How long would it stay jammed?

Minho couldn’t hold this guy down. He was strong. Stronger than him. This wasn’t fair. He was going to die. He was flipped instantly, head smacking the metal hard as the man smacked the gun into his face again. 

It stung. It stung like the robbery. But something about this man’s hits were softer. Like he didn’t want to actually hurt him. 

He grabbed the gun again, holding Minho down with his arm as he fiddled with the trigger. 

The last thing Minho wanted right now was to die. He wasn’t dying. Not here. 

“Fuck!?” The guy screamed as Minho rammed the long part of the spoon into his rib, shoving the man to the ground before climbing over him, ranking it into him again. 

But there was no victory. The man just laughed, throwing Minho into the metallic wall. 

Which hurt. The wall hurt. He hit his head so fucking hard. It stung. Everything stung. 

Was this easy? Was this his easy fight?

The man snickered as he held the gun against Minhos temple, the taste of blood filling Minhos mouth. 

“Please—“ Minho gasped, trying his best to pull the gun from his temple, “don’t…”

“It’s either you or me,”

He pulled the trigger. Minho expected death. Expected darkness. 

But instead nothing. Just the sound of the man continuously clicking the trigger. 

He had a chance. 

The gun wasn’t even loaded. 

“What the fuck!?” He growled, hitting the side of the gun like that’d do something. 

Minho had to think fast. He took the spoon in hand before using all the force he had to knock it into the man’s jaw. It didn’t cut. It barely did anything. 

He’d have to use his hands. He...fuck. 

The man gripped his cheek in anger before shoving Minho back, gun still in hand. 

The gun would hurt. He had a good, yet useless weapon. 

Minhos fists?! They wouldn’t do much. He needed—

The spoon flung out of his hand, smacking into the wall behind. 

Oh?

Oh fuck. 

“Stupid bitch!” The man growled, throwing his gun to the side, both hands gripping around Minhos throat. 

Fuck. 

He couldn’t think. His brain was muddy as the man’s hands tightened, sadistic smirk as Minho started to choke and thrash. 

No. No thrashing. Minho grab the spoon. 

He glanced to the side, hand reaching out for the discarded weapon. 

He needed the spoon. 

The spoon was good. 

“Just die!” The man laughed, spitting into Minhos face like he suddenly had no humanity. Was that what happened here? Humanity was lost?

Minho wasn’t about to die. He wasn’t about to lose. 

But perhaps he was about to lose his humanity. 

Blood spray against his face, eyes shut tightly as the man gasped for air, suddenly gurgling and releasing Minhos neck. 

It was good that he didn’t choose the gun. It was good that he listened. 

Minho pulled himself against the wall as the man gasped, crawling after him in a rage, he was choking, holding tightly to Minhos ankle. 

This man couldn’t even find words. He fell to his side, coughing and choking, gripping at his neck that had been slashed open. 

Minho gripped the spoon tightly, glancing down to where the spooned part had been knocked off as it hit the wall, sharp blade in its place glistening with red. 

It was good that he chose this. 

Confetti sprayed. Why?

“Match!”

“Winner Red! Loser White!”

They didn’t have names here. 

——

His hands were bloody. He couldn’t wash them till the showers opened the next day. His throat was sore, head spinning. He turned down medical. As soon as the door opened there was another automated voice asking if he wanted to go to the medical room. 

He turned it down. 

He sat in his bed, hands shaky. Lunch must have still been running. Nobody else was there. He couldn’t stomach going to lunch. Not covered in all this blood. Not like this. 

For the first time since Minho had gotten to this awful place, he cried. His face stung with tears and gashes from the gun. He felt so defeated. Despite the white medal dangling from the hook, and the pillow he’d chosen as his prize, he felt nothing but disgust with himself. 

Minho whispered as he lay on the metal, still holding his hands in front of him, the man’s face plastered in his mind. The man’s gurgling ringing in his ears. That wasn’t easy. It wasn’t an easy fight. If that spoon hadn’t have had a hidden blade, he’d be dead. He would have died. 

Time passed, he assumed. Because he could hear Hyunjin at his door, and then heard him crouched beside him. And then he felt that warmth again, enclosing him from behind, whispering how it was okay. That Minho did well. Minho didn’t do well. He killed someone!?

Minho couldn’t focus. He just...passed out. He passed out in that warmth, shivering through his gasps breaths. 

Everything stung. 

——

Morning stung. He should have gone to medical. As Minho pried his sore eyes opened he could still feel warmth at his back. Hyunjin had crawled onto the metal with him, arms still laced around him comfortably. 

Minho wasn’t sure he liked the feeling. He didn’t deserve it. 

“Morning…” Chan. Chan’s voice. 

Minho turned with a whine, pulling up from the loose grasp around him, he must have looked awful. Chan’s face dropped the second he turned. 

“Jesus Minho...you didn’t go to medical?” Chan approached him, patting his hair again before angling his chin up, wincing at the obvious damage, “it was that rough?”

“Gun…” Minho whispered, “hit me with it.”

“Of course he chose the gun. What did you choose?” Chan asked, crouching down some. 

“Spoon…”

Chan shook his head, disgust adamant on his face, “hidden bladed right? They’re so sick.”

Minho just nodded, whining at the pounding in the back of his head. 

“Showers open soon...we’ll help clean you up if you want, alright?”

“Minho is back?” Changbin asked at the door, weak smile over his face before rushing to Minhos side, hands at their sides, “is he okay?”

“He took a beating. They gave him a fucking spoon, i remmeber mine was at least unsheathed when they gave me mine but...minho was yours?” Chan sighed, petting Minhos cheek comfortably, “we don’t have to talk about it though...not if he doesn’t want to.” Chan glanced at the medal with a sigh, “he just needs to get cleaned up.”

“Wake Hyunjin...I’ll go get everything ready once the door opens.” Changbin insisted, leaving the room hastily, the sound of heavy footsteps at the ground. He must have ran. 

Minho sighed, shuddering as Chan let him go, helping him lean back into the wall as he tapped Hyunjins cheek. 

He was sleeping so soundly. Part of Minho didn’t want him to wake up. 

“Hwang, you gotta get up. Showers.”

Minho tensed.

“Hyunjin. Bro, up.” Chan laughed, Hyunjin curling into Minho with a whine of his own, “we have to get Min cleaned up.”

Minho let his eyes flutter shut, head spinning at the slight movement of Hyunjin rising upright. He felt so tired. So sick. He should have gone to medical. 

“Hey Minho…” Hyunjins fingers were so delicate against his bruised face, every press causing him to let out tiny whines, “let's head to the showers. If you want I can clean your face up and then leave you alone.”

“No…” Minho whined, gripping Hyunjins fingers with his own shaky ones, “don’t leave...cold.”

“It’ll be warm.” Chan spoke, feeling Minhos forehead, “he’s burning up…”

“He refused medical. I’ll take care of him, Chan. Remember...entertainment.” Hyunjin whispered, Minho sighing at the stupidity of it all. 

“Minho, you want my help too?” Chan asked, hand moving back to his hair. He kept touching his hair. Constantly. 

“I’m okay...I can do it on my own.” He winced, pulling himself up more. 

He obviously couldn’t. 

“No, I’ll help. Is that okay, Minho?” Hyunjin asked, steadying Minho, hand behind his back, “Minho?”

“Okay…”


	4. Hammer

It was weird having someone in the shower with him. Granted Hyunjin had his clothes on, and he left Minhos on him too, but it was still weird. It was one of the few things Minho hadn’t done before coming here. 

“Stay up, okay? We can’t call medical.” Hyunjin whispered, brushing fingers through Minhos hair as he rinsed it. The red colored water under his feet was so concerning. He’d been covered in that man’s blood all night. 

“I’m trying.” Minho pouted, staggering back. Luckily Hyunjin caught him, holding him upright in his arms as he directed his head under the stream of warm water. 

“I’m proud of you.” Minho didn’t want to hear that. “Winning is good. Winning will get you favor.”

Minho bit his lip at that, tears springing to his swollen face, he didn't feel like a winner. He felt pathetic. Useless. 

“Don’t cry...the first is always hard, Minho.” Hyunjin told him, lifting his chin. He seemed so worried. Like deep down he might have cared. 

But hyunjin was just using him. Minho knew that. 

“I can’t...do this.” Minho shuddered, Hyunjins expression falling, “I just can’t.”

Hyunjins lips were warm. Everything about him was warm. His hands slinking up his drenched shirt, his tongue, all of him. It ran so warm. 

Minho let out a tiny whimper before bringing his shaky arms around the other man, grasping around his neck for support as Hyunjins hand moved along his back. It was definitely soothing. But he knew it was nothing. Just a show for the sick game he was in. 

He felt like a pawn. 

“Minho, it’ll be okay.” Hyunjin whispered, breaking their kiss to release a chorus of sighs, “I promise you. It’ll be okay. I’m not going to let you give up.”

“I...can’t kill another person.” Minho whispered against him, hands trembling again as Hyunjin pulled his shirt up. 

Minho didn’t even try to stop him, he raised his arms, the taller pulling the cloth over his head and tossing it to the ground, “you’ll be okay. You’re going to get out of here.”

“You’ll all leave before me...I won’t get out.” Minho panicked internally at the thought. Chan or Changbin could leave at any minute. And Hyunjin had been here longer too, how many wins did Minho need to go home? “I’ll be alone I...I’m wasting time.”

Hyunjin shook his head, pushing Minho back against the wall as his hands held his face, brushing his thumbs over Minhos cheek affectionately, “when they leave I’ll be alone. If you go...I’ll be alone. Minho you have to stay.”

“Why...how do you continue?”

“I need to go home.”

“What’s the point? We have killed...I can’t live with that guilt!” Minho whimpered, tears stinging the cuts at his cheeks as Hyunjin wiped them away. 

“We won’t remember any of it, Minho. They assured us...this is temporary. All of it.”

Minho just shook his head, eyes shut tight as he felt warm breath at his throat. He couldn’t focus but he knew Hyunjin was sucking at the skin of his neck. He figured anything to make them seem legit. The people watching had to know it wasn’t real, right? 

——

“Dinner soon.” Changbin sighed, flipping through his notebook as he settled in his cozy looking bed. He had so many pillows. Blankets...he had a small heater. Changbin had it all. 

Minho sat at the floor, picking at the black rug, it was warm too…

“Minho, you think you can stomach dinner?”

“They’re going to show my face aren’t they...it’s been two days.”

“It’s probably too early for Jeongin...so probably.”

“I can’t...I don’t want to see it.”

“Not looking will make them put you into another match...they did it to Chan when he got here.”

“They did?” Minho whispered, rubbing at the sore spot at his neck. Changbin had been avoiding eye contact. He must’ve seen the hickeys that Hyunjin had littered onto his skin, “he didn’t want to see?”

“He threw his tray at the TV. They put him into a rough match and he ended up in medical for days.” Changbin sighed, finally glancing to Minho, “just watch and then you can look away. We’ll take care of you. Hyunjin, especially. “

“These are…,” Minho sighed, rubbing his neck harder, “it’s just for show…”

“It’s good to have that. You’re doing each other a huge favor.” Changbin frowned, “be careful, though. Hyunjin has attachment issues. He gets too into things and...he might actually fall for you.”

“He shouldn’t.”

“That doesn’t mean he won’t.” Changbin smiled weakly, glancing over to the clock at his side table, “we should get ready for dinner.”

“Okay…” Minho whispered, pulling himself up off of the floor, wincing as he grabbed his jaw. Everything hurt ten times worse hours later. 

The stinging was too much. 

——

“Congrats on the win.” Jisung, the red he’d met the other day said, “it’s good to see you made it out.”

Jisung looked okay despite having his own match earlier, “how are you?”

“Mine ended fast. They gave me someone new...the guy didn’t even move. It was quick.” Jisung frowned, giving Minho a light pat on the shoulder, “you should have gone to medical.”

“He’ll be okay.” Chan spoke, giving Minho a tiny smile, “He’s tough.”

Jisung turned to face his own table, “we need more tough players. Keeps our teams from crossing…” Jisung huffed, “I’ll talk to you guys later…” 

As Jisung settled back at the table, Minho couldn’t help but notice how much more comfortable he was with Felix. Maybe they were real. Maybe they weren’t for show. 

“Minho...TV.” 

He didn’t want to look. Not really. Everyone would see. Everyone would see who he was. He felt sick again. But he had to stomach it. He had to. 

Minho glanced up to the sole tv. The news. The local news channel in his area. He braved it. Knew it was coming. He didn’t want to see Seungmin...he didn’t. 

But there it was. Almost as if the sick fucks running this place knew it was coming. Minhos picture on the screen with a missing persons description. Of course he wasn’t sporting his blue hair. The blue was new. 

Hyunjin laced his fingers with Minhos, leaning on his shoulder, “it’s okay…”

It wasn’t okay. 

Minho shuddered as the news mentioned where he was supposed to be. Mentioned how he didn’t have family. And then very fucking briefly they showed Seungmin. And Minho felt like he was going to panic. 

“He wouldn’t run away...something happened to him. He’d never run away.” Seungmin was being so brave, holding back obvious emotions as he spoke into the mic held in his face, “Please...please find my brother.”

Minho shuddered again, eyes peeling away. He couldn’t finish. He couldn’t. Just seeing the brief mention from Seungmin was enough. Seungmin was probably devastated...but part of Minho was glad Seungmin didn’t think Minho would run away and leave him. He’d never do that. 

——

“Are you okay?” Hyunjin asked, brushing fingers through Minhos hair as he was curled into Hyunjins bed, pillow comfortable under his head and blanket extra warm. It was nice. He felt nice. 

“No.” Minho whispered, curling into Hyunjins side, “I’m not.”

“Anything I can do? Believe me...it gets easier.” Hyunjin told him, adjusting so he was rest beside Minho now, pulling the blanket over himself. It was small, but they seemed to fit together alright. 

Minho shook his head, inching closer until he was in Hyunjins nape, letting out an irate sigh, “I just want this to end as soon as possible.” Hyunjin was so warm. 

“It will. It will be over before you know it.”

——

Days blended together. It was constant. Shower, breakfast, lunch, dinner, sleep. The in between time was just with the hall. It was boring but Hyunjin kept things a little fun. 

They’d progressed into more kissing, slightly. It passed the time, and when Hyunjin had his match later in the week he said it had been easy. Which was a relief. Losing Hyunjin at this point would really hurt him. Hyunjin was more than a useful tool, he was Minhos crutch. 

Chan and Changbin were great, but they weren’t Hyunjin. Maybe Hyunjin was just using Minho hard. Maybe Minho was being stupid. Falling for someone he didn’t know long. Maybe it was the lack of options. The attention that Hyunjin gave. Minho felt so secure with him. 

“The.” 

Minho arched his back. 

“Newbie.”

Minhos breath staggered. 

“Has a fight tomorrow.”

Minho whined out a small moan, fingertips buried in Hyunjins messy black hair, he felt so light. 

“How do you think he’ll do?”

Minho was still coming down from his high, Hyunjins kisses and sucks at his hips getting him way too hard to function right now. 

“He’s still skittish. They put him against a green.”

Minho carded fingers through his own hair, the blue fading off considerably into a greyer shade, “they did…”

“Are you that hard?” Hyunjin laughed, peeling away Minhos waistband, “Want me to fix it? Last time you really enjoyed it.” He cooed,lips brushing along his tip, causing him to buck his hips in reply. 

“Hyunjin!”

“Is that a yes?” Hyunjin laughed, lips wrapping around his exposed head, little slurping sounds causing Minho to moan out a little too loudly. 

“Yes! Fuck—“ Minhos head was back into Hyunjins pillow, the younger man teasing his slit with his tongue. He was going to lose his fucking mind. More than he already had, anyways. 

“You’re so beautiful…” Hyunjin slipped off of Minho with a pop, pulling his pants up his legs more, the feeling of cold metal against his skin causing him to hiss, “I could eat you up.”

Minho let his eyes flutter as Hyunjins warm mouth took his length. This was the second time now. The first being the same day Hyunjin won his last match. Luckily he’d been paired with a white too. 

Hyunjins mouth was so warm. It felt so nice. Minho could barely focus as his fingers tangled in messy dark locks, hips bucking with excitement as he thrust upwards, Hyunjins throat exhilarating. 

“Hyunjin...you’re going to kill me.” Minho whispered, Hyunjin bobbing his head roughly. 

Minho was way feeling way too euphoric. He’d bust at any second. 

“Hyunjin I can’t…it’s too much this time,” Minho whimpered, biting his lip hard as Hyunjin hollowed his cheeks. 

But Hyunjin pulled off with another pop, the cool air causing Minho to writhe uncomfortably as Hyunjin leaned over him, lips brushing along Minhos with the taste of his own precum. 

“Can I do something new?”

Minho shuddered at that. The blowjobs were a lot already. And this was the second one. They barely knew each other. It had been a week. Hell, he hadn’t even seen Hyunjins dick yet. 

“Like what?” Minho whimpered, reaching for his dick that was throbbing. 

“Uh uh.” Hyunjin pulled Minhos hand away, leaning down to press their lips together hard before pulling up, Minhos fingers lacing into Hyunjins as the man’s other hand trailed Minhos bare stomach, “can I...do something else to you?”

“Spit it out,” Minho spoke, lifting his head. His dick was begging for release at this point. 

“Can I eat you out?”

Minho, had never, ever, thought about doing that. It wasn’t that he’d never slept with another man or anything but...this wasn’t anything he’d ever had done to him. 

“Ah...are you sure you don’t want a blowjob instead?”

“I bet you taste amazing.” Hyunjin whispered, grazing their lips again as his hand wrapped around Minhos length, “...I really want to fuck you someday, Minho.”

Minho shuddered into Hyunjin, hips moving against Hyunjins hand, “you want to take it that far?”

“Anything to keep our matches weak…” part of Minho felt Hyunjin was lying, “don’t you have another coming up soon?”

Minho dreaded that. 

“Probably…”

“So let’s entertain…” Hyunjin left Minhos lips, trailing kisses down his stomach, nibbling happily at Minhos shaft before tugging at his pants more, “I’ll stop if you want me to, Minho.”

“Fuck…” Minho glanced to his door. It was shut, but he was worried about the sounds he’d make. Yeah, that was his concern. His noises. Not that his teammate wanted to tongue fuck him. 

“You’re sure you don’t want that blow?”

“Minho,” Hyunjin got down between Minhos legs, raising either thigh over his head, “I wanna do this...do you?”

“Can I blow you after?”

Hyunjin smiled wide before disappearing between Minhos legs, a single stripe at his hole leaving him arching his back. He’d rimmed before. He’d never had it done to him. Ever. 

Minho shivered as Hyunjins tongue invaded him, Minhos fingers tight in Hyunjins hair as he felt himself clench around the slick tongue. It was a weird feeling. But it felt nice. Hyunjins tongue wasn’t the longest, but it did enough for him. 

“Minho, can I add a finger?” Hyunjin pressed his index against Minhos hole, tiny sensations ringing through his body as he nodded, head pressed into the pillow from the intense pleasure of below. He’d cum at this rate. 

Hyunjins tongue filled him again, the stretching of Hyunjins finger causing him to moan out, long and loud. Jesus he was probably loud enough to wake the other two. 

He but down at his hand as Hyunjins long finger filled him, tapping teasingly at the swollen bundle of nerves inside of him. He was so turned on it was ridiculous. His mind was spinning as Hyunjin moved his tongue and finger around like he was a puppet. 

“Hyunjin I’m gonna cum…” he whimpered, arching his back, Hyunjin moving a hand to wrap about Minhos length, palming at his sensitive head. 

He was going to lose it. 

“H-hyunjin!” Minhos toes curled, the feeling of Hyunjin inside of him causing him to slip. 

He couldn’t even think about where he really was right now. All he could think of was how fucking nice Hyunjin was making him feel. He wanted to return the favor so fucking bad. And as he came into Hyunjins hand he couldn’t barely even register that. 

“Look at you…” Hyunjin pulled up, grabbing Minhos length in one hand as the other continued palming the sensitive area, causing Minho to writhe and whine in pleasure, hands gripping around Hyunjins wrists. 

He was losing it, head back as his mouth gaped wide. He was feeling too much at once. He could barely register that Hyunjin had moved the hand at his length to finger him, the feeling of two fingers fucking into him as Hyunjin rubbed his thumb against Minhos slit. 

He felt like he’d black out, Hyunjin breathing against his throat. Fuck. 

“I wanna kiss you but...my mouth is...” Hyunjin laughed, pulling his fingers from Minhos hole that was begging for more. But another time. 

“Do you…?” Minho was so shaky, Hyunjin encasing him in his warmth, “blow?”

“Maybe later.” Hyunjin laughed, breaths shallow as he watched Minho. 

Minho shook his head, lifting himself up, “we are so stupid for doing this at night...we can’t clean up till morning.”

“The downside…” hyunjin joked, pulling Minhos pants back up before collapsing beside him. “No kisses either. Sorry.”

“I appreciate that.” Minho laughed, eyes fluttering shut as fingers ran across his stomach. 

“Is the distraction making it easier on you?”

Minho opened his eyes again, turning his head to look hard at Hyunjin. 

“Whatever we’ve been doing...is it helping you? It’s helping me…”

Minho didn’t know how to answer, he just rolled into Hyunjin, not minding the stickiness against the metal surface, “it is.”

——

“Match.” Changbins words felt like venom. “I have one, too. Let’s hope it’s the end of the line for me.” The smaller man sighed, rolling his sleeves all the way up around his arms. 

Minho sat up, taking a deep breath, “what color?”

“Huh?” Changbin stepped into his room, wrapping cloth around his fists. He was so prepared. 

“What colors do we have?”

“I have a blue. You have another white,” Changbin laughed, “they must really like you. And fuck they must really hate white.” Changbin smirked before patting Hyunjins closed door, “a lot.”

Minho nodded in reply. White. Another white. If white was the easiest, he was thankful. 

“What time?”

“You’re scheduled for lunch again.” 

“Good.” Minho whispered back. 

He was in no fucking way ready. Or in any way prepared. The calm and collected demeanor was for show. If the assholes watching wanted entertainment, he’d give it to them. He’d make them love him. Because once Chan, Changbin, and Hyunjin left...it would just be him. And he needed an easy way out. 

“Mines in a few minutes. See you guys with my fifth blue soon, alright?” 

Changbin was cocky, Minho realized. But he had good reason to be. He was the best. Minho hadn’t seen Younghyun in action so he was positive he was superb as well, but Changbin...

“Happy birthday, Chan.” Changbin patted his door happily, bouncing and punching the air immediately after, “I’ll be back with cake.”

“You’re gonna waste your request on cake?” Chan snickered, stepping out of his room, giving Minho a happy smile as he caught his eye, “good luck today, Minho.”

“I’ll bring you something too,” Minho began, “anything you need?”

“You should request another blanket, focus on yourself. You coming back in one piece is a gift.” Chan laughed in reply. 

“I’ll try.”

“No, you’ll do.” Hyunjins door swing open, the man waving Minho in, “you’re coming back, okay?”

“Ooh you gonna make the match real easy for him?” Changbin teased, getting a soft punch from Chan at the arm. 

Hyunjin gave Changbin a look before tugging Minho into the room by his arm, shutting the door as he shoved Minho into his pillows, lips pressing together as his hand shot up Minhos shirt. 

They did this a lot. Often. But this felt different. Hyunjin was needier. Grabbier. 

“Hey...you okay?” Minho laughed, catching his breath as Hyunjins hands trailed along his back, “You’re…”

“Don’t lose.” Hyunjin whispered, pressing the tiniest kisses along Minhos jaw. 

“Hyunjin I won’t…”

“I know you’re acting tough on purpose. But don’t lose. Don’t.” Hyunjin pleaded, softly grinding his hips against Minho, “promise?”

Hyunjin was being too much. Minho was already terrified of this. It was his second match. Of course he was scared. But he’d be okay. He would. 

“I’ll be fine. I promise you, I’ll be fine.”

“That ones been here longer.” Hyunjin whispered then, petting his fingers through Minhos hair, “He’s been here the longest of that team. He’s been here almost as long as me, Minho.”

Suddenly Minho felt tense. White wasn’t supposed to be hard. 

“How many...does he have?”

“I think five.”

He had more than Hyunjin. Why did he have more? 

“He’s crazy, Minho. You have to be cautious. Please?” Hyunjin grabbed his face, eyes shaking with terror. 

“Hyunjin…”

“Please. Promise you’ll come back...don’t die. Please?”

“I won’t…”

“Minho, promise.”

Hyunjin was shaking. He was genuinely...worried. 

“I promise.” Minho whispered, taking Hyunjins hands down to study how shaky he was. He was terrified for Minho. 

“Okay...okay.” Hyunjin took a breath before sliding out his sketch book, settling beside Minho, head rest at his shoulder, “Okay...I trust you.”

——

“Oy, Changbin!” Chan laughed, giving the shorter male covered in blood a hi five. Did they think this was a game? Minho wondered why they were so calm. The first day they acted like killing each other was bad. Now? They seemed comfortable showing that they didn’t give a shit. Doing this for so long...no wonder. 

“It was easy. The idiot chose a butcher knife.”

“What did you have?”

“Fucking chainsaw.”

Minho took a deep breath, directing attention to the sketch Hyunjin had been working on the past few days. 

“You didn’t have to do that, Hyunjin.”

“Seeing him will make you want to live. It’ll help motivate you.” Hyunjin replies, working on the lips of the familiar man. 

“How do you remember him from just two news reports?”

“Memory. I’m a genius, don’t you know.” Hyunjin smiled, brushing his hair behind his ear as he blew on the drawing, “Seungmin. He’s going to help me keep you fighting.”

Minho pressed a small kiss to Hyunjins shoulder, “my fight is soon...I’ll do everything I can and come back.”

“Request a blanket, seriously.” Hyunjin laughed, fingers caressing Minhos chin, “but don’t use it till you’re cleaned up.”

“Fine. I will.” Minho sighed, doing his best to stay as positive as he could. 

Deep down he was dreading this fight. Dreading everything about this. He glanced to Hyunjins trophies. Four was a big number. Two was a big number. But he’d make it. He had to. 

——

Minho acted like he knew the drill, walking confidently, standing and waiting for the glass case to appear as he walked down the hall to that room. He figured the gun would come up again. It did, but he had more options. 

He had a box cutter this time. The spoon, a box cutter, the gun. He couldn’t imagine what the other man had. He had five kills. Did they get a new weapon per kill? How the hell did Changbin get a chainsaw? 

How far did this go?

Minho reached for the box cutter. He was hesitant. The spoon...the spoon was sharper. More precise. But the man must have known about the spoon. He probably used all of the weapons. 

Don’t choose the gun. 

Part of Minho wanted to appear like he didn’t know what he was doing. The gun would...make the man think he’d won. Part of Minho wanted to take the gun so badly. 

Minho, don’t pick the gun. 

Minho took a deep breath, sliding his digits around the pretty silver gun. 

Blunt. Deceiving. 

That man had a blade too. He could easily just cut Minho to pieces. Minho needed to look stupid. 

He chose the gun. Why?

——

As the gate opened, Minho looked straight at the camera. He wondered if he had the attention. Wondered if they were watching him. Had he not done enough to be paired with someone he could beat? Or did they expect more from him? Minho wasn’t sure. 

He held the gun tightly, counting in his head as the opponent approached. 

The guy was handsome, like really handsome. Minho recognized him some. He didn’t talk to white, but he’d seen the guy joking around with some pinks and oranges. Minho wondered if he was considered an elite or something. His team...they stayed to themselves. Was Minho an outcast or a top dog?

“Hi yellow. Nice to see one of you.”

Minho raised his head some, staying silent as he eyed the man. 

“Gun, huh? It’s your second match, right? You didn’t choose the cutter? That sucks.” The man snickered, waving around what he was positive was a hammer. He couldn’t tell by the speed. Shit. 

Hammer versus gun. 

Minho could do this. He could. There weren't any rules against stealing weapons. He could get the hammer. Easy. 

“Sucks they pinned me with you. I really wanted to smash that pretty boy Hyunjins face in.” So he knew their names. 

“You’re never going to.” Minho growled back. Part of him hoped they could hear the matches. Otherwise it would be boring, right?

“Match In 3—“

“It was nice to meet you. I’m sorry that it had to end this way.” The man spoke, giving a look of sympathy that looked...genuine. 

Minho gave him a nod, glancing down to the gun in his hand. 

Make it work, Minho. 

“Nobody ever wins with the gun. Your team should have told you. I guess you’re stupider than they thought.” That genuine apology went down the drain. 

“1—“

“Good luck, dude.”

Minho held the gun tight, “you too.”

The man shook his head, “you’re going to need it.”

“Match start!”

Minho moved first, raising the gun. He knew it would jam. They always jammed. 

“Idiot…” The man came towards him, swinging the hammer in his hand like he was some sort of professional. Part of Minho would have believed that. 

Minho held his finger at the trigger, eyeing the gun, aimed right at that man coming towards him. 

It would jam—

Well shit. 

Minho was on the ground, hands covering his ears as the sound blasted through his eardrums. 

The fucking gun went off. 

Maybe whoever was watching liked Minho. Maybe the gun sometimes worked. 

Fuck?

The man screamed but he was up quickly, on top of Minho as he held the hammer high. He was bleeding. Minho had managed to get him in the shoulder. 

He didn’t mean to shoot him, honestly. He just wanted to give the man a false sense of hope so he could somehow get that hammer off of him. 

But fuck. The gun worked!?

Minho grabbed the man’s arm, holding it from harming him as his other hand reached up and pressed his chest back. 

His wound. 

Minhos breaths were heavy as the man ripped his hand from Minhos grasp, ready to slam the hammer down. 

He didn’t get the chance. Minho lodged his thumb into the disgusting wound, pressing as hard as he could until the man swung the hammer. 

Okay so he did drop the hammer. But at the cost of hitting Minho with it first. Granted he didn’t hit Minho as hard as he probably wanted. But it hurt. The hammer was twenty thousand times worse than the gun. Way worse. 

Minho threw the man off of him, turning on his stomach to grab the hammer. 

But of course, he was dragged back, the man grabbing a fistful of Minhos hair before slamming his head down into the metal. 

Okay. So Minho might die. 

He wasn’t sure why the adrenaline was making him so lacking of care, but he just...didn’t care. He was hurting but...he didn’t care. 

Minho elbowed the man hard in the stomach, flipping himself upright, balling his fists. 

He was ready. He had to be. 

Fuck this guy. 

“You stupid bitch…” the man glanced to the hammer. 

No, fuck him. 

Minho kicked it away. No, he was supposed to pick it up?! No. No he was going to win using his gun. 

He reached down, the man on his feet, gritting his teeth as he saw the gun raise. 

“The guns not supposed to work...this is cheating,” he spat, “cheater…”

“Says who?” Minho whispered, voice way shakier than anticipated. He sounded so confident. The adrenaline was helping. Otherwise he’d be crying his eyes out right now. Bawling and probably getting smashed to bits with that dudes hammer. 

“Everyone…” The man whispered, eyes panicked as Minho pulled the trigger again. 

He assumed it was a two round. He didn’t know jack shit about guns. But the man was screaming, clutching his chest. And Minho was clutching the side of his head, that ringing from the bullet. It was a lot. 

“You bitch!” Minho hadn’t hit him fatally. Of course he hadn’t. Minho didn’t know how to use a gun. 

He hoped he would have done more damage. But as his head spun the man had tackled him down, fists colliding over and over with his face. 

And he couldn’t stop it. The ringing was excessive.

Minho could taste blood again. And he could hear crunching. And he was so sure his face was going to be totaled. 

He made a mistake. The gun was a mistake. 

No, no it wasn’t. 

Minho coughed, flipping the man easily. He had shot him in the chest. The man was losing it. He was losing it. 

Minho reached over to grab his gun, eyeing the man who was struggling under him, who had blood trickling down his lips. 

Suddenly he felt primal. Like a wild animal. He smashed the gun down as hard as he could into the man’s face, only getting a growl in reply. 

The man was weak, but he was thrashing hard. He was hitting Minho constantly. Honestly, Minho was feeling dizzy. He had been slammed with a hammer after all. And he could feel the blood leaking down his face. He had no clue how bad he was. 

But the man under him? He hoped he was worse. 

Minho hit him again, digging another finger into the wound. 

The white just thrashed harder, hair matting to his face as he scratched into Minhos hand, drawing as much blood as he could as he screamed at him. 

Minho couldn’t barely hear. The ringing from the gunshot into the metallic room was still echoing. Filling his mind. 

How would he finish this!?

“Ten minutes.”

What? Minho panicked, digging deeper as he glanced around. 

Hammer. But he didn’t want to use it. He didn’t want to use the hammer. That was...the hammer was brutal. 

That tiny bit of humanity that was bellowed deep inside Minho would be lost if he used the hammer. 

Shit. 

“Five minutes—“

“I’m sorry…” Minho found himself apologizing this time around, grabbing the hammer to replace the gun, the man spitting blood and shaking his head frantically. 

He didn’t have a choice. If he didn’t end up, they’d both die. 

“Two minutes.”

The adrenaline was fading. Minho was shaky, even coughing blood. He felt sick. Uncomfortably so. 

“Don’t!” Minho could bear the man yell through the ringing. 

He didn’t have a choice. He held the hammer high before smashing down, his stomach lurching as the metallic hammer connected with the man’s once attractive face, smashing of bone causing Minho to start sobbing. 

He did it again. 

And again. 

Until it was quiet. Until the ground was covered in brains and blood. It was...Minho couldn’t believe he’d done it. 

“Match!”

Minho was shaking, releasing the hammer that he’d grabbed, pulling himself up only to collapse back onto the ground. 

“Winner Yellow, loser White!”


	5. Benefit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s a fun part 
> 
> you’re welcome 
> 
> Also I don’t know how to edit so if there’s mistakes skdjdhdh I’m sorry in advance

Minho couldn’t go back. He couldn’t. As the robotic voice asked him repetitively if he wanted medical, he couldn’t help but say yes. 

Medical was quiet. He’d been sitting in his bed, tubes and noise buzzing in his head. 

He felt numb. He’d seen a few people despite the bandages wrapped around one of his eyes, the other too swollen to really adjust. 

But it was nice. In a weird way. It felt comfy. It was warm here. Comfortable in the weirdest way. He felt safe here. Safer than out there. 

He’d probably been here for days. He wondered if the others were updated or not. He’d never seen anyone come back from medical—well he just hadn’t been here long enough. Two weeks and most people just came back in one piece. He didn’t get it. How he was so messed up while others weren’t. 

Part of him should have chosen the box cutter. Than he wouldn’t be in this mess. 

——

Minho ran his fingertips over the stitches at his temple, hissing at the slight stinging. He was told in the most robotic voice that he could leave. It had been...five days? He wondered how many people had been lost since then. Five days didn’t seem like a lot, but it was. 

He inhaled sharply as he left the hall, hands shaky. Part of him wanted to turn back, bang on the medical door and scream to be let back in. But he couldn’t stay. Not if he didn’t need to. 

He also didn’t want to delay things. He didn’t want that at all. He needed to get out. 

Was his team still there? Did anyone get out yet?

“Minho!” He hadn’t looked up at all. His eyes had been watching the floor as he walked. He was told his hall wasn’t far. It was super close, actually. There’s no reason his team didn’t catch him before he caught them. 

“Shit, are you okay? They told us you were in medical but Jesus Christ…” 

He couldn’t focus. His head was still fuzzy. Fuzzy from being hit with a hammer, fuzzy from the noise of the bullet echoing through the room. Fuzzy. 

“Stop crowding him…” Hyunjins voice was softer, more relaxed. 

Minho felt a hand wrapped around his wrist, tugging him along. He wished he could look at the other two. Look up at all. But everything was messy. He felt nauseous. 

“I have to…”

“You have to what, Minho?” Hyunjin asked, helping Minho settle down against Hyunjins bed. It was a little warm. Just a little. 

“Head hurts...I have to—“

“You should have stayed in medical...your face looks awful.” Hyunjin sighed before sitting besides Minho, running fingers over his back, “you look so bad, Minho...what happened?”

Minho whined, leaning into Hyunjin. His stomach was filling with knots. Knots of pain, knots of anger, knots of guilt. 

“Hyunjin I’m gonna be sick…”

“It’s midday but you know the bathroom is opened. Showers are cut but...do you want me to help you get there?”

Minho nodded, just that simple movement causing him to whimper in agony. His head hurt so bad. Whatever they’d had him on during his stay made everything seem okay. But clearly, it wasn’t. 

“Okay…”

“Is he okay?” Chan’s voice was so loud. It stung. 

“I don’t know what happened, but no.” Hyunjin replied, pulling Minhos arm around his neck, “I’m taking him to the bathroom, let Changbin know we might be skipping lunch.”

Minho shut out the rest of their conversation, leaning all his weight into Hyunjin, head spinning. Clearly he wasn’t okay. Clearly the hammer messed him up more than he’d thought. 

“Hey, Minho...stay awake, okay?”

Minho just nodded again, biting hard into his bottom lip as Hyunjin pushed open the door to the showers, helping Minho into one of the stalls, forcing Minho to the ground. 

“If you need to throw up, do it.”

Minho couldn’t focus. His head spun as he gripped the toilet seat, shuddering. He wanted to die. 

“Minho...I’m right here, okay?”

He lost track of how much vomit he’d produced. Lost track of how much Hyunjin was trying to soothe him, lost complete track of himself as he passed out. 

It was overwhelming. All of it. 

——

“Minho, it’s dinner time. Did you wanna go?” Hyunjin was brushing his fingers through Minhos hair, Hyunjins blanket wrapped tightly around Minhos frame. 

“I don’t know.” Minho spoke, embracing the warmth Hyunjin gave, “I don't...I don’t know if I can look at anyone right now. I feel so...guilty.”

Hyunjin sighed, “your face is a little fucked right now but...nobody is going to look at you like you’re anything less than a victim. We all have to do it...no one is innocent.”

“I look horrible…” Minho whimpered, “my face is so swollen…”

“You did tell me you took a hammer and a metal floor to it...plus he broke your nose. Which...you shouldn’t be so careless about.” Hyunjin reached his fingers to press slightly against the bandage at Minhos face, “will talking about what happened make you feel better?”

Minho closed his eyes, curling against Hyunjin, “I don’t know...what happened didn’t make sense.”

“Why not?” Hyunjin inquired, scratching his nails against Minhos scalp. 

“It didn’t jam.”

“What?”

“The gun didn’t jam.”

Hyunjin stilled, “What do you mean? Who had a gun!?”

“Me…”

“Why would you pick the gun!?”

“I knew he’d have a better weapon…”

“So you choose the gun!?” Hyunjin seemed distraught, annoyed. But he quickly calmed, “wait, so you shot him?”

Minho nodded, “twice.”

“Wh—How?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know.” Minho whispered, grabbing Hyunjins hand, “it worked and he attacked me because I didn’t hit him right and he messed up my face up and I just...he got to weak that I just took the hammer and—I killed another person and even when he was dead I didn’t stop and—“ Minho took a breath, “I’m a monster. I didn’t stop. I—“

Minho stopped, hiding his face into Hyunjin, the younger man scooting down and wrapping his arms around Minho, pressing tiny kisses to his hair, “minho...you didn’t do anything wrong. This fucked up place makes us do things we would never do. Don’t...don't ever think you’re a monster. You were scared. We’re all scared. You didn’t have a choice.”

“Hyunjin why did the gun work?”

“I don’t know.”

——

“When’s your fight?” 

It had been two days. The swelling in Minhos face had gone down. He didn’t expect a match for awhile, either. However, reading Hyunjins name that morning made him feel anxious throughout the day. 

“Late. After dinner.”

“Are you scared?” Minho asked, getting a glare from Changbin. 

“I’ll be okay, Minho.”

“Pinks aren’t that easy though, right?” Minho asked, eyes studying Hyunjins change in demeanor. 

“They’re not the easiest. That team hasn’t lost anyone in a month.” Chan whispered, “I don’t know why they matched Hyunjin with them but he’ll be okay.”

Minho worried about that. Would he be okay? 

“Hyunjin...do you think they matched you like that because I was away for a week?”

Changbin dropped his fork, sighing heavily. 

“Seriously...is it punishment?” Minho wondered, Hyunjin finally eyeing him, “is this my fault?”

“It’s just a pink. I can handle it, Minho.”

“Hyunjin…” 

“Maybe. Maybe it is. But don’t blame yourself. These people are sick, you know that.” Hyunjin replied, taking one of Minhos hands in his own, “Okay?”

Minho inhaled deep, watching Hyunjin the best he could. He didn’t want Hyunjin to lose. He couldn’t let that happen. 

“I want you to see me before you go...in the stalls.”

“Why?”

“Just do it, okay?” Minho whispered, trying to keep his voice low from the other two. 

He had to make sure Hyunjin would be okay. 

——

“Minho? Why are we in the shower, they’re cut off?”

“Close the door.” Minho whispered, settling against the shower wall. 

He had to. 

“Okay…” hyunjin did so, turning to give Minho a defeated look. Clearly Hyunjin was worried about this match. 

“Wanna entertain?”

“Minho I don’t think—“

“Do you want to win?” Minhos words felt sharp. 

“What do you mean?”

“They gave me a loaded gun, Hyunjin. Who’s to say they won’t give you the upper hand, too?”

“I don’t know why your gun worked but—“

Minho sighed, pulling Hyunjin against him, eyes staring into Hyunjins widening brown orbs, “I don’t want you to lose.”

“I don’t want to either…” Hyunjin breathed out, taking a handful of Minhos hair into his hand, “but that pink has more kills than me.”

“We just have to make sure they support you over him then.” Minho whispered back, pressing their lips together, looping his arms around Hyunjins neck, “turn the shower on.”

“It’s cut—“

“Just in case…I wanna see if they’ll turn it on.”

Hyunjin shuddered, turning the dial before grabbing Minhos face, body pressed close as his lips met Minhos again. 

No water. But that was okay. Part of Minho assumed they’d turn the water on if Minho gave them what they craved. Nasty fucks. 

“Hyunjin, how badly do you want to fuck me?”

Hyunjin gasped as Minhos hand brushed along his pants, length already hard, “Minho…”

“I’m serious.”

“I’ve wanted to fuck you since you walked in.” Hyunjin admitted, moaning softly as Minho slipped his hands down into Hyunjins pants, wrapping around Hyunjins cock hastily, “so much.”

“How much of a benefit would you get from fucking me against this wall?”

“Jesus Christ, Minho—“

“I'm still serious.”

“And you’re still injured…” Hyunjin hissed, throwing his head back some as his dark hair brushed over his eyes, “I’m not hurting you…” he whispered, trying to eye Minho the best he could. 

“You won’t be. He hurt my face not my ass.” 

“Jesus Christ, Minho.”

“I don’t want you losing.” Minho shuddered, hands moving steadily along Hyunjins shaft, the younger shuddering with each pump, “I want it to be quick. I don’t want you stuck in medical.”

“Why do you care?” Hyunjin growled, forehead pressing against Minhos, hand reaching down to wrap around Minhos wrist, “why do you care?”

“You came to me first…,” Minho started, “you wanted me to help you,”

“You don’t have to go this far if you don’t want to, Minho.”

“I do.”

“You’re just saying that…” hyunjin gasped, moving his head to Minhos shoulder as he quickened his pace, giving tight squeezes against the head of his cock, “Minho!”

“Hyunjin, I want to. It’ll benefit us both. Plus…” Minho raised Hyunjins chin, finding absolute bliss in the fucked out expression Hyunjin wore, “You’re so hot.”

The water. The water turned on. Hyunjin nearly stumbled, eyes wide. 

“We should fuck.” Minho whispered, tugging Hyunjin back against him, “we really should.”

——-

He didn’t hate it. Hyunjin was steady, soft and courteous. Honestly Minho wasn’t sure why they hadn’t done it yet. It wasn’t like Minho hadn’t offered blowing Hyunjin a dozen times. Minho clearly wanted to release his tension. Sex seemed...to work. 

Hyunjins breath was so hot against him, mixed with the warm water everything felt so fucking nice. And they could be so loud. And so absorbed without worrying they would get caught by the other two. The showers were supposed to be closed. They wouldn’t bother them, he hoped. 

“Fuck…” Hyunjins lips were back on Minhos neck, causing Minho to whine and rut against Hyunjin, arms tight around the taller man’s neck as he thrust into him. 

It took them ages to get there, but once Hyunjin had pushed himself inside, Minho never wanted it to end. 

However he was feeling a slight cramp in his thigh from how Hyunjin was fucking him, one leg struggling at the ground as the other hung lazily around Hyunjin, getting fucked against the fucking wall. He’d be sore, sure. But it felt nice. Even if the cramp was starting to form. 

“You okay?” Hyunjin whispered, water washing over his back, face filled with concern. 

“Yea—Yeah I’m fine. Can we...floor.” Minho winced, Hyunjin pulling out so suddenly. 

“Floor? Yeah. We can.” Hyunjin whispered, tugging Minho down. 

His stupid ass cramp. Jesus Christ. 

“Your leg hurt?”

“I’m not that flexible.” Minho laughed, pulling Hyunjin over top of him as he settled against the wall, “lap…”

“Seriously?” Hyunjin snickered, pulling Minho up so he could slide underneath of him, length brushing against Minhos hole teasingly. 

“Yeah. Better this way.” Minho sighed, pulling Hyunjins lips back to his own before reaching behind himself to position Hyunjin, “no cramps.”

“You have a cramp?” Hyunjin teased, pressing himself up into Minho again. 

This position was much nicer. 

“It’s not important.” Minho huffed, resting his arms around Hyunjin lazily as he started to move inside of him. 

“Hey Minho, I’ll come back.”

“You have to.” Minho whispered, head against the back of the shower as Hyunjin angled his hips, thrusts deep and hitting everything he was supposed to. 

“F—fuck!” Minho whined, struggling to rock himself along, buildup in his stomach too much at this point. 

“You’re lucky they turned on the shower. You’re so messy.” Hyunjin snickered, Minho opening his eyes to realize he’d just fucking came between them, water helping the slide of white down Hyunjins chest. 

“Shut up,” Minho laughed, gasps increasing as Hyunjins thrusts grew. 

He hoped this was enough. If Hyunjin didn’t come back he’d lose it. Hyunjin was really the only one keeping Minho here. The only thing keeping Minho from purposefully losing a fight. If Hyunjin died he wouldn’t be able to handle it. 

He needed him. 

Hyunjin pressed kisses over Minhos cheeks, pulling himself out before finishing in his hand, hand tangling in Minhos hair. It was nice. The exhilaration of it all. 

“Hyunjin…”

“Yeah?”

“Choose the gun.” Minho whispered, pointing his index against Hyunjins head, forming a ‘gun sign’ with his hand before directing his hand up to the camera, making a soft booming sound, hand twitching as if it had released a bullet. “Choose the gun, okay?”

Minho made sure to focus on the camera, keeping his stare as Hyunjin rest against him, hands wrapping warmly around Minhos back. 

He better choose the gun. And they better load it. 

——

“I’m sure he’ll be back soon.” Changbin sighed, leaning at the doorway. 

Minho was biting at his thumb, settled in Hyunjins bed. He’d been there awhile now. Just waiting. He hoped earlier helped. 

“Minho, he’ll be fine.”

“Stop saying that…” Minho whispered, rubbing at his arms in anxiousness. “I’m so worried.”

“Hyunjin isn’t dumb. He can do this, Minho.” Chan whispered back, resting back into Hyunjins bed beside Minho, “everything will be okay…” hands at Minho’s hair. But they didn’t soothe him. 

He was so sore still, and tired. But he couldn’t sleep. Not until Hyunjin got back. 

“It’s been hours…” Minho swallowed, resting his head against Chan’s shoulder, “hours…”

“Min, get some sleep. We can wake you when Hyunjin returns.”

Minho shook his head, eyes struggling to stay open, “I can’t…”

“You’re sore and fucked out, get some sleep.” Changbin huffed, sifting down at the bed to feel Minho’s forehead, “don’t think we don’t see it...you’re stupid for going that far with him, Minho.”

Minho shifted uncomfortably, eyes shut tight, “I just want him to win.”

“You’re not well enough for all that excitement…” Chan frowned, pulling Hyunjins blanket over Minho as he slipped out of the bed, “get some sleep kiddo.”

“I’m not a kid…” Minho huffed, curling himself into the warmth. The blanket held Hyunjins scent. 

“Minho...take care of yourself. Okay? Get some sleep.”

Minho didn’t even register. He wasn’t sure how he fell asleep so quickly, or why he’d allow himself to fall asleep worried but...shit that’s what he did. 

The nightmares weren’t worth the sleep. Seungmins face wasn’t worth it. Hyunjins corpse wasn’t worth it. Chan and Changbin leaving weren’t worth it. Minho being matched with young—

He couldn’t even stomach his night terrors, he was gasping for air as he turned in the bed, vomit coating the floor. 

He didn’t want to do that. He didn’t want to puke in Hyunjin’s bedroom. Especially not over his pretty rug. Fuck. 

Minho clutched the side of the bed tight, tears clouding his vision as breaths stay heavy and staggered. Minho felt so pathetic. So terrified over dreams. Fucking illusions. 

The warmth that wrapped around him made it all disappear. 

The instant rush of warmth as hands ran across his chest, along his stomach and soothing breaths in his ear. 

He was calm. 

“It’s okay, Minho…”

Hyunjin. 

Minho could hear how staggered his breaths were, and he could foggily see the blood coating his hands as his eyes met the hands over him. But it was Hyunjin. 

“Hyunjin…” Minho gasped as he turned, eyes wide at the state of the younger man behind him.

Lip busted and swollen, eye black and dried blood glued to his temple. He looked awful. He looked so awful. 

“Hyunjin…”

“I’m okay...you should see the other guy.” Hyunjin whispered, voice so tiny and shallow. 

“You didn’t go to medical?”

Hyunjin shook his head, brushing fingers into Minho’s hair, “they...told me I shouldn’t.”

What?

“I think they wanted me to come back here to see you…”

Minho wanted to vomit again, he covered his mouth actually. He didn’t want Hyunjin to try kissing him or anything, “Hyunjin...you shouldn’t have come back.”

“It’s superficial...I’m fine.” The younger whispered in confidence, head pressing into the pillow, “I think they’re worried for you…I didn’t listen. I’m sorry.”

“What do you mean?”

“I grabbed a different weapon. I was too scared to take the gun, I’m sorry.”

“No...don’t apologize. Hyunjin…”

“Can we sleep?” 

Hyunjin’s voice was so painfully small. 

Minho couldn’t resist pulling up to press Hyunjin’s head into his lap, brushing through matted strands of black hair, “you sleep...I can’t.”

“Minho…”

“Nightmares. I’m fine, you’re fine. Just sleep, okay?” Minho huffed, eyeing Hyunjin’s head wound closely. It wasn’t too bad. But clearly the pink had hit Hyunjin with something hard. 

Hyunjin didn’t answer, he just wrapped his arms securely around Minho, nuzzling into him before soft strained snores filled the room. 

He should have gone to medical.

Minho took a deep breath, watching Hyunjin with worry. He didn’t want him to hurt so bad. He didn’t want Hyunjin in so much pain but that pain was obvious. 

“Shit…” Minho glanced down at the vomit coating the floor. He should clean that—

It got heavy quick. Really quick. Minho had never been awake for the gas, but here it was. The thick yellow gas coated the room fast, Minho’s eyes falling shut and head smacking the metallic. 

It happened so fast he couldn’t even register that the night had passed. Their time was fleeting.


	6. Mutual

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should I tag rough oral sex?

“Morning guys.”

Chan’s voice filled Minho’s head as he peered his eyes opened, pulling from where he’d ended up in the bed, “morning?”

“They gassed the rooms last night,” Changbin added as he settled beside Minho at the bed, “Hyunjin already went for the showers, he said he felt gross covered in all that blood.”

Minho shuddered at that, but at least Hyunjin was okay. And the vomit smell vanished as well, they must have come in and cleaned that too.

“Can I?”

Chan and Changbin exchanged glances, “you don’t need our permission.” Chan huffed as he crossed his arms at the wall, “go on.”

Minho felt his face heat up as he slipped himself from Hyunjin’s warm bed, cool metal hitting the bottom of his feet. 

He wasn’t sure why he asked. 

Minho didn’t like the dizzy feeling he got as he walked down the hall, but he figured that was from wherever they filled inside of them. Maybe that and the fact he still hadn’t recovered from his last fight. 

His last fight. 

Minho shook the thoughts off as he reached the shower room, using the wall to steady himself as he found himself standing in Hyunjin’s stall, faint outline of the taller man in the showers soothing his worries. 

“Are you going to stare or join?” Hyunjin sighed as he pulled the glass back, looking much better now that the blood had washed from his temple to reveal a minor cut rather than the gash Minho thought he’d find. 

“How are you feeling?” Minho asked, holding the wall as his head spun. He really should have gone to medical. 

“I’m fine, I told you it’s all superficial.”

Minho just nodded, leaning into the doorway as his eyes fought to stay open. Was he tired or was he...? He didn’t know. He wasn’t sure what he was. 

“Minho.”

“Hmm?” Minho sighed, eyes finally falling victim to his eyelids. 

The warm water smacking his face was nice, although sudden enough to have him shuddering in surprise. 

“You’re the one that should have gone to medical. You probably have a concussion, Minho.” 

Minho just shook his head, struggling to open his eyes as Hyunjin’s fingertips ran through his hair, “I didn’t need it.”

“You got hit with a hammer, did you forget?”

“I’m okay—“

“Minho, seriously. You’re not okay.” Hyunjin sighed, pulling Minho down to the ground to settle against the shower wall. 

Minho sighed, “I’m not two I can take care of my—“

“Clearly you can’t.” Hyunjin snapped, tugging Minho’s chin up unexpectedly, “you’re going to get yourself killed.”

Minho’s eyes blinked open, Hyunjin angling Minho from the direct spray of water. Hyunjin was a little hard to read. Did he care about Minho or did he care about what Minho did for him? The entire time he assumed this was some mutual agreement where they used each other for benefits but...did Hyunjin care? Minho cared. At least he thought he did. 

“Wouldn’t you just get a new teammate to use?”

Why did he say that? 

Hyunjin’s expression darkened, hand sliding to cup Minho’s cheek, “is that what you think?”

Minho wasn’t sure why he’d said that at all. Or why he was looking at Hyunjin so questionably. What was he doing? 

“Maybe.”

Hyunjin inhaled deep before pressing his lips to Minho’s, the wave of warmth causing Minho to press forwards into the man, hand lay against his bare chest. 

But Hyunjin didn’t stay long, he pulled off quickly, cupping Minho’s face in both hands instead, “I thought this thing we had going was mutual…”

“It is.”

“Then take care of yourself. Next time you get matched go to medical. Take care of yourself. If you die...no Seungmin, and then I’ll probably get killed off too. I think we’re entertaining these fuckers enough, Minho. They seem to really like you and I so just...keep it up, okay?”

Keep it up. Minho couldn’t let this thing feel real. It wasn’t real. They weren’t real. 

“Okay…” Minho huffed, nuzzling into the touch. 

——

Despite the comfort of the shower, Minho still felt like shit. Not only did his head spin, but now that constant reminder that Hyunjin and him weren’t anything more than a facade invaded him. 

Did he actually like Hyunjin? Did he like him more than—no. Minho was being stupid. He shouldn’t like Hyunjin. This was just temporary. 

Why did it hurt him so badly?

“You doing okay?”

Minho rolled over in his bed, eyeing Hyunjin who stood behind him closely. He hadn’t even heard him come in. 

“I’m fine.”

Hyunjin rolled his eyes at that, crawling over Minho to flop beside him, “Minho, why are you sulking, you already skipped breakfast—“

“I’m fine, Hyunjin. I’m just tired.”

“You’re fucking ridiculous, Minho.” Hyunjin whispered, carding fingers through Minho’s hair again, grip tightening with every graze, “I don’t want them to think this is—“

“Fake?” 

Hyunjin took a deep breath, “Minho, you took it that far the other day, not me.”

Minho shook his head, “I don’t want to talk about this, Hyunjin.”

“Do you want to stop?” Hyunjin laughed, watching Minho in disbelief. 

“And die? No.” Minho whispered back. 

“Minho, what do you want from me? What can I do? If we stop, we die. What do you want me to do?”

Minho felt numb. A little sick, but mostly numb. 

“I don’t know, Hyunjin.”

“What set you off?”

“I just know it’s not real.” Minho admitted, burying his face into the pillow. What difference did it make? It wasn’t real. They just had to keep it up until they got out...if, Minho had to remember the if part.

“Of course it—“ he stopped himself, running his fingers down Minho’s back as he reached around him, “Jesus, why would you want to make this real?”

That stung. 

Minho just pulled himself from the grasp, sitting up to rub at his throbbing temples, “because it feels nice. I actually like you.”

“You barely know me.”

“Jesus Christ, I like what I’ve seen. I want to know more about you—“

“Well stop,” Hyunjin demanded as he sat himself up, “this is temporary. Don’t go falling in love with me, we just met and we’re just doing this for favor.” Minho winced in reply, “what we’re doing means nothing outside of here.”

Why did his chest knot so hard? 

“Can you really say that you’ve felt nothing this entire time?” 

Hyunjin’s face said it all. He hadn’t. 

“I just want to get out, Minho. This shit we have going is just going to make it easier for me to get home.”

For him. 

Hyunjin shifted, pulling himself out of the bed with a heavy huff, “Don’t make it look like we had a fight. Fix your face.”

Did Minho look upset? He was, but did he look it? 

Minho’s eyes left Hyunjin, landing at the floor, “none of this matters for me, does it?”

“You’d have been dead by now without me.” Hyunjin’s words hurt, but the lingering pain in Hyunjin’s own voice told him that the younger man instantly regretted them. 

Minho took a deep breath, “you feel nothing?”

“I just want to go home, Minho.” 

Eyes shut tight, Minho didn’t want to be mad. It wasn’t like Hyunjin had manipulated him or anything. This was mutually benefiting them, but once Hyunjin got out, then what? 

“I want to go home too, Hyunjin.”

That’s all he wanted. 

“Then keep playing along. If you don’t I’m worried they’ll hurt us. If we stop now...they’d be upset. They’d get us out of here.” 

Hyunjin’s hands ran underneath of Minho’s shirt, inhaling sharply as his fingertips lingered against Minho’s stomach. 

Minho hated how nice it felt. 

“What should we do?”

“Wanna blow me?”

Minho wanted to punch him, “you’re kidding?”

“No, maybe you were upset with something else,” Hyunjin whispered, leaning forward to press tiny kisses to Minho’s jaw, “it wouldn’t look like we had a fight.”

Minho honestly couldn’t say no. He wanted to get closer to Hyunjin. He wanted to be with him as more than...whatever this was. Maybe Hyunjin just needed the extra push. 

So he’d fucking do it. Why not? 

Minho had wanted to do this for awhile anyways. He wasn’t entirely sure why Hyunjin hadn’t allowed him to do it yet. Maybe the younger man was just scared or something? 

“I’ll be gentle. Actually, pick a word.”

“Why? You’re not gonna hurt me.”

“I get carried away, believe me we need a word.”

“Hyunjin I don’t mind—“

“You’re saying that because you like me. Pick a word.”

Minho rolled his eyes, “Sure, whatever. Mint.”

“Mint?”

“Can I suck your dick or not?” Minho growled, tugging away from Hyunjins grasp to tug the mans pants down, length springing free. He was ready to go. Minho wondered how long he’s been hard for. 

“Fine. Mint. You say mint and I’ll stop.”

“How am I supposed to use a safe word while your dick is down my throat?”

Hyunjin rolled his eyes at that, “just bite me then.”

“You’re fucking crazy. How dangerous is sucking your dick?”

“Honestly? You might suffocate. Or drown.”

“How the fuck would that happen?” Minho grimaced. 

“I won’t let you pull off. I’ll hold your head and I won’t stop till you've got cum leaking down your nose.”

Minho coughed, “the fuck are you talking about?”

“I get carried away, like I said. I won't stop once I’m going at it.”

“You’re worrying too much—“

“Just bite me if I hurt you.”

Minho pursed his lips, “Hyunjin what the fuck?”

“The reason I haven’t let you blow me is because I can be too much, and I don’t want to hurt you.”

Did Hyunjin care then? Even a little? 

“So you care about me?”

Hyunjin pulled a face, “of course I do?”

Minho was so confused. One minute Hyunjin is telling him that this isn’t real, and that everything is just to appease some higher power, but the next minute he’s showing genuine care and...maybe it was friendship. Maybe Minho was really reading too hard into this action. 

But he let it go, wiped it from his head as he settled between Hyunjins legs, knees cold against the metal though his legs were covered in the ugly yellow shade. 

Hyunjins hand was tangled in his hair, soft sighs leaving the younger as Minho took gentle licks along the underside of Hyunjins cock. Honestly? Hyunjin wasn’t too grabby. He was just holding his hair like any normal person, and he was definitely enjoying the small teasing actions. 

What the hell was Hyunjin warning him for? He seemed fine. 

Maybe that was until Minho took his length into his mouth completely, hallowing his cheeks as Hyunjin filled him. 

Okay, maybe Hyunjin was too big for his mouth. Maybe that was why Hyunjin has warned him. If he did decide to start fucking Minho’s mouth it probably wouldn’t do much, but he’d gag or something for sure. 

Still, Minho didn’t see the fuss. Maybe Hyunjin was genuinely...no. He couldn’t keep thinking of reasons Hyunjin might have to hide his feelings. There were no feelings. They were nothing. 

“Remember the word right?” Hyunjin gasped, massaging into Minho’s scalp, “to bite if it’s too much and you can’t speak?”

Minho just hummed against Hyunjin’s length in annoyance. He wasn’t a toddler. If it got rough he could handle it. Either Hyunjin was just worried and this was real, or he really did take things too far and had a chance of hurting him. Either way, Minho was just glad Hyunjin was still giving him attention. 

How had he fallen so deep? 

Hyunjin started to rock his hips, both hands messing up Minho’s hair as he let out the tiniest sounds of bliss. Hyunjin wasn’t very vocal but the sounds he was making were heavenly. 

Why was he so enthralled by him?

Minho watched the man above close as he bobbed his head, maybe even enticing Hyunjin to move more. Maybe Minho wanted Hyunjin to fuck into him like he was a toy. Wait—why did he want that?! 

Hyunjin was a fucking mystery and Minho wasn’t sure why he liked him so much. He knew shit about him. He didn’t know where he’d come from, if he had family, what his life was like outside—he didn’t know—oh!

Minho gripped Hyunjin’s thigh tight as the younger started to move more roughly, head of his cock finally interacting with the back of his throat causing Minho to gag considerably. Curse the gag reflex. The last thing Minho wanted was to like...vomit on his dick. That would be sickening. 

“Ah...Minho—“ Hyunjin was getting into it, nails digging into Minho’s scalp as hips bucked against him. Luckily Hyunjin’s grasp in his hair kept him from breaking his nose or something. The way Hyunjin has begun to move was a little rough, but Minho really enjoyed the sounds he made while doing it. They were lowkey sing-songy. They were breathy and pretty and Hyunjin was starting to sweat and the way those plump lips parted—fuck. 

“Minho...Minho!” 

He loved hearing his name on the man's lips as he thrusted harder. Would his throat be absolutely sore tomorrow? For fucking sure. Was it worth it? Yes. 

Minho tried bringing a hand to Hyunjin’s length, though the younger was enthusiastically fucking into him to the point his entire length was disappearing constantly into Minho’s mouth. 

Maybe he should bite. Hyunjin was increasing his pace and Minho’s throat was definitely not happy with him. But part of him really wanted Hyunjin to cum down his throat. Fuck—was he that into Hyunjin? 

Minho couldn’t help but moan as Hyunjin’s length rammed into him, those vibrations probably making it a little tougher on him as Hyunjin threw his head back like he’d never felt better. 

Oh. Maybe he got it now. Hyunjin’s grip tightened, hips bucking relentlessly as he whimpered soft pretty sounds. But Minho didn’t mind. If Hyunjin felt good he’d deal with the not so pleasant feeling that was building in his mouth. 

“Minho I’m gonna cum…” Hyunjin’s breaths were so heavy and pretty. 

He didn’t mind. 

Minho just kept his hand at Hyunjin’s thigh, digging his nails into the skin to keep himself steady as Hyunjin’s breath hitched. 

It wasn’t horrible. 

Hyunjin’s cum kind of forced itself down his throat which was a little unexpected, but there wasn’t a whole lot Minho could do about that when Hyunjin’s dick was still fucking into his mouth. 

Maybe he should just bite a little. As tempting as the drowning in cum thing sounded, he wasn’t sure he could handle it. His mouth just wasn’t prepared enough for that, even if his brain was begging for more. 

So as Hyunjin rode himself out and held Minho’s head against his length he managed to bite down gently, Hyunjin stilling quickly to let out a much more lengthy moan, fingers trembling against Minho’s scalp as he pulled them from their grasp. 

He could move if he wanted, but he stupidly just moved his head to his own accord, sore throat as he bobbed himself against Hyunjin’s softening length. 

“Minho—“ Hyunjin whimpered, sounding way more fucked out than he thought he’d be, “you can stop, you bit—“

Minho hummed again, causing Hyunjin to throw himself back into the wall with another pretty moan, hands dropping from Minho’s hair to brush along his cheeks. 

He just really wanted Hyunjin to see him as more than a fuck. 

So he took a deep breath, making sure he swallowed everything he could before prying his hand from Hyunjin’s thigh, running it over the man’s stomach that was just as trembly as his hands. He could feel those muscles contracting along his fingertips.

Hyunjin pulled himself out shakily, breaths so pretty. 

Minho’s mouth really hurt. Like ached. He knew he probably shouldn’t have let Hyunjin be as rough but he’d been so caught up in his own euphoria that it didn’t matter. But wow did his throat hurt. 

“I’m sorry if I—“

Minho pulled himself up fast, settling over Hyunjin’s lap as fingers ran into the man's hair. He hadn’t realized he’d punctured skin, but he could feel Hyunjin’s blood underneath his own leg. He really didn’t mean to do that. 

“I liked it.”

He wasn’t lying. 

“Really? I mean...you stopped me from going at it again but—“

“You were fine.” Minho’s voice was a little strained too, which made sense. 

“I didn’t hurt you?” Hyunjin breathed out, hands warm at Minho’s cheeks, “Don’t lie.”

“My throat hurts but I’m fine…” Hyunjin Maybe read too much into this. It didn’t hurt as much as he made it seem, “you tasted good too.”

A tiny smile appeared at the corner of Hyunjin’s mouth, “now I know you’re lying. With the shit they feed us there’s no way it tasted good.”

Minho couldn’t help but laugh, biting his lower lip as he watched the man before him, “no really, I’m fine. We should do that more often.”

Hyunjin took another deep breath before leaning back in to crash their lips back together, happiness seeming to release from the younger man's lips. It was such a pretty sound. 

Minho locked his arms around Hyunjin’s neck, pressing himself as close as he could. Even if it was fake...even if it was just for show, it felt so fucking nice. 

So real. 

But it wasn’t.


	7. Rough

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof

“How’s your head?” Hyunjin asked, running fingers through Minho’s hair. 

“It’s okay.” Minho admitted. Honestly? He was feeling light enough. After breakfast he felt pretty calm. 

“You guys coming for lunch or?” Chan asked, peering into Hyunjin’s doorway with a huff, “skipping to...you know.”

Minho rolled his eyes at that, prying himself out of Hyunjin’s grasp, pulling his shirt over his head, “we’re coming.”

“Yeah we know, we could hear you guys all night.”

Minho narrowed his eyes, throwing Hyunjin’s pillow at Chan with a shake of the head, “ask for ear plugs next match.”

“Ha-ha.” Chan laughed before getting pushed into Hyunjin’s room, Changbin shutting the door behind. 

“I didn’t think you two were eager to join—“ Hyunjin teased before halting, seeming as shaken by Changbins expression as Minho was. 

“Changbin what’s up?”

“I was going to head to lunch early and...they already have matches up for tomorrow.”

“Oh...any of us got one?” Chan laughed nervously, seeming less concerned than Minho and Hyunjin were. 

Changbins face said it all. 

Fuck. 

Minho took a deep breath. He could tell that Changbin directed the message to him specifically. By the sorrow in the man's eyes, it wasn’t good. 

“Who?”

“You three all have matches tomorrow.”

Minho felt numb. 

Chan blinked in confusion, “wait, all three of us? Why—“

“Hyunjin and Jeongin.”

Hyunjin’s face fell, much like Minho’s heart. 

“Chan, you and Minho have a duo.”

What the fuck was a duo? Minho couldn’t even focus on the fact that Hyunjin was going to be against that poor kid in red. 

“What is a—“

“It’s where they take two members of two teams and toss them in together.” Chan whispered, “this is...why did they do this? Who are we—“

“Two orange.”

“Fucking orange?” Chan growled out, “are they trying to fucking kill Minho? What did you two do!?” 

Orange was bad. 

“We haven’t...we haven’t done anything wrong I—“

“Did you guys slip up?” Changbin asked, rubbing his arm in worry. 

“No…” Minho whispered, biting down into his bottom lip as Hyunjin’s hand ran along his back, “we didn’t…”

“What’s their angle…” Hyunjin sounded so defeated, “Jeongin is...he won’t be hard to beat at all. But...why would they put Minho in with a team like that?”

“Maybe the oranges fucked up...they’re sending Chan in too—“

“They’ll both be gunning for Minho. Nobody on that team is weak.”

Minho felt acid in his stomach. He felt like throwing up. He felt like dying. 

“I’ll protect him just...fuck. Why wouldn’t they put me and you in there?” Chan asked, Changbin just shaking his head in reply. 

Minho wasn’t sound enough for this. Not only would they be in horrible standing with the one team they were supposed to teamed with, but Minho had to face a strong team that would surely try taking him out. Even with Chan, he was no match. That was for sure. 

“We can do this.” Chan signed, “just pick the weapon I tell you to and just stay behind me.”

“Wait we choose together?” Minho sighed, breaths rapid enough to have Hyunjin wrapping his arms around him. 

“You get to pick any weapon i've used since I’ve been here…”

That sounded amazing. 

“Just...fuck. A duo?”

“Have you ever—“

“Me and Chan have. Against some pinks before you got here.”

Minho was glad Chan had at least done one of these before. 

“Minho...just listen to Chan. Only one team can come out. If you die they’ll do everything they can to kill Chan, too.”

Minho didn’t want that. He didn’t want either of them to die. 

“We should head to the cafeteria…”

Shit. Red. 

“What about—“

“I’ll talk to them.” Hyunjin whispered low, pressing tiny kisses to Minho’s jaw, “I’ll talk with them and...who knows. It’s not our faults we are paired.”

“Are you sure you’ll win?” Minho asked, turning to face the man who looked stone cold. 

“It’s Jeongin…”

“Okay but...he’s only had one match and was in medical a few days but—“

“I’ll be fine, Minho.” Hyunjin assured, giving one final kiss to Minho’s cheek, “it’ll be okay. You’ll be okay too…”

——

The cafeteria was uncomfortable. Apparently two duo matches had been scheduled. A couple pinks and two of the blues. Which was odd because those two tables seemed to have a similar relationship that yellow and red had...what were these people doing? 

“Red won’t look over here…” Changbin frowned, “this isn’t good.”

“Well orange won’t stop staring. Fucking vultures…” Chan whispered back, causing Minho to look back at the four eyes staring right at him. 

They were planning his demise. 

“It’ll be fine, calm down. Stop scaring him.” Hyunjin spoke up, eating quickly despite telling them to calm. 

“They look so…”

“Scary? Yeah. They are.” Chan couldn’t even eat. Which was odd, because he loved to eat. 

“Work some magic and make sure you two come out okay.” Changbin sighed. 

“Magic?” Chan quirked his brow. 

“Not you...those two.” Changbin pointed to Hyunjin and than to Minho, “do something to make them want to keep you guys.”

“Is fucking not enough?” Hyunjin spoke flatly, causing Changbin to nearly choke on his muffin, “I don’t think their goal is to kill either of us. I think orange must’ve fucked up.”

“Why pair you and Jeongin?” Changbin signed once he’d calmed his coughing, “why would they do that knowing we have a bond with them?”

“Maybe Jeongin fucked—“

“So you’re going to lose right?”

Felix. The sudden deep voice caused Minho to jolt in place. 

“Felix we don’t choose our battles—“ Chan started before getting a sneer in response. 

“You’re going to kill that kid? He’s younger than us. He’s got a family looking for him.”

“We all have—“ Minho tried to retort. Tried to do anything he could. 

“He has nobody!” Felix yelled out, causing the majority of the cafeteria to focus on their table. Fuck. 

Hyunjin got quiet, staring at felix hard with such a cold expression. 

“He has nobody looking for him because he’s just some whore they took off the streets.”

Minho shuddered at the language, the lack of sympathy. 

“Jeongin has a family who actually wants him to come home. Nobody is looking for you,” Felix spat, Jeongin rising from the table only to be pulled back down by Younghyun. “You’re going back to what? Sucking dick for blow again?”

“Enough.” Chan growled, rising from the table to glare in the direction of Younghyun’s, “control your fucking teammates, Younghyun.”

Minho had never felt more uncomfy. 

“Felix…” Jisung usually stopped Felix from getting mad at other teams. For some reason he hadn’t done shit to help Hyunjin, “let’s go back to the table…”

“If you win, you’re taking another kid from people who actually love them. Do us a favor and just lose.” Felix spat before being dragged back to their table, eyes never leaving Hyunjin who had considerably deteriorated. 

The deteriorated response lingered as they returned to the hall, Hyunjin still at the floor as he sketched another sunrise. But it was darker. 

“Hyunjin—“ Minho hadn’t tried to speak at all, he didn’t know how to help. What to say. 

“He’s right.”

Minho took a deep breath, “no he isn’t.”

“Nobody is looking for me. I had no news coverage. Nobody even knows I’m gone.”

“Hyunjin…”

“Look, I didn’t tell you about my past because it didn’t matter. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but me fucking you makes sense now, right? I love fucking. Especially for special treatment.”

“We do this to survive—“

“You could have been anyone. I don’t care who you are Minho. I don’t care about your past and I don’t give a shit about Seungmin.”

Minho would let that go. He was mad. Minho reached for the drawing, probably to drag it away. Maybe to grab Hyunjin’s hand. But the younger just laughed, crumpling his artwork quickly. 

“The sunset bullshit man, I was with a client when it happened. I draw because it’s literally the last thing I remember before coming here. Fuck. Minho I...I literally don’t give a shit about you, okay?”

He didn’t mean that. 

“You’re just a mouth and a couple holes to pass the time. Chan is straight and Changbin scares me. You were my best option, that’s that.”

“You can say whatever you want, I know you’re just mad—“

“You realize when I get out of here, even with memory wiped, I’ll never think of you.”

Minho inhaled deep. 

“I’ll just go back to fucking for food and sucking dick for coke.”

“Hyunjin you—“

“Get the fuck out of my room. If you’re not going to use that mouth for something less annoying, leave.”

He was mad. That was okay. Hyunjin was allowed to be mad. 

“I’ll give you some time but we really should—“

“We should what? Fuck? Want me to tear you apart so bad you can’t move? Then you die. Is that what you want?”

“Hyunjin for fucks—“

“I don’t want to see you. Get out before I drag you to the fucking ground and bash your face in.”

Hyunjin wouldn’t hurt him. 

“Fine. But you need to see me before our matches tomorrow.”

“No I don’t.” 

Minho let it go. He let Hyunjin slam his door behind him. And he dealt. 

Hyunjin hadn’t been quiet at all. The other two had heard everything. 

“Minho, he doesn’t mean anything he’s saying right now.” Chan frowned. 

“He gets like this.” Changbin whispered back, “just stay away for now.”

“Why didn’t you guys tell me about…”

“It wasn’t our place, Minho. Chan wanted to wane you away from him but...he was worried the people watching would end up hurting you. And we didn’t want that.” Changbin sighed, patting Minho’s knee as he leaned his chin onto the bed. 

“He won’t talk to me.” 

“He’ll get over it. He’s just upset.” Chan sighed, settling onto the bed beside Minho, “just...before the match try to fix whatever happened. If they think you guys aren’t...a thing, I’m worried they’ll make it harder on us.”

Minho had nearly forgotten that they’d be matched at the same time. Hyunjin and Jeongin would be fighting the same time Chan and Minho would be in the other room. Fuck. 

“It’ll be okay. Chan’s gonna make sure you come back in one piece...right?” Changbin directed, giving Chan a worried look. 

“If he dies, they’ll gang up on me. I’m not letting him die.” Chan replied, pulling Minho’s head onto his shoulder, patting his hair fondly, “we’ll both be fine. Everything will be fine.”

Minho hoped that was true. 

——

Dinner was awkward with Hyunjin there. Felix hadn’t shown up, which was nice. Though the lingering stares from the orange table were bothersome. 

“Good luck tomorrow.” Younghyun’s voice was unexpected, “I’m sorry they matched those two together...it won’t break the bond, okay?” Younghyun sighed as Chan eyed him closely. 

“Why did you let Felix say what he did?” 

“I don’t want to lose Jeongin…” Younghyun whispered back, “he’s a really good kid.”

“So you let Felix hurt our teammate?”

“I don’t own him. There are no leaders.” Younghyun frowned, “look...whatever happens I’ll still be on your side, Chan. We’re in it to the end.”

Younghyun seemed convinced Minho and Chan would win their fight, which was a little reassuring. 

“We don’t want to lose Hyunjin...if we do, we’ll be the same. Not parting ways with you guys.” 

The fist bump between the older men was a little unsettling, but at the same time respected. Minho thought it was really good for them to keep their ties strong. Even if they’d lose a member or two. Minho had to remember that the last time their teams had been paired...both members died. 

Minho was worried about that part too. Did they have the same timer with a duo match? 

As the night went on the tv showed a few stories, briefly mentioning how Changbins parents hadn’t given up. It was weird seeing Changbins photo on the screen. He was so much tinier than he was now, smile wide on his face. 

It was weird. 

Everything was weird, though. 

Especially once they’d left and gone back to their hallway, Hyunjin’s door still shut. 

Minho wanted to see him. Badly. Hyunjin was the constant in his life here. He needed him. And Hyunjin needed him too. 

So he knocked, expecting nothing in return. Which was reality. No sound. No noise. Nothing. 

“Hyunjin…?” Minho pushes the door open, Hyunjin curled up in his bed, fingers rest over his notepad. 

He was passed out, probably sleeping off the tears that clearly stained the sides of his cheeks. 

Minho wouldn’t wake him. He decided to close the door, sitting on the side of the man's bed, fingers carding through that messy black hair he’d grown to like. Maybe one day he’d cut it. They did have grooming tools in the bathrooms. He should cut his hair. 

“You’re gonna be okay...I’ll be okay. I promise.” Minho whispered, sliding the sketch pad from Hyunjin’s grasp. 

He meant to put it down but...he didn’t expect to see his sketch with faint bubbles of tears. It looked so exact. So much like Minho. Hyunjin really was an artist. 

“Hyunjin…” Minho sighed, running his fingertips along the man’s cheek. 

So he cared somewhat. He definitely did. 

Minho took a deep breath before sliding the notepad to the ground, curling besides Hyunjin. He was feeling a lot, clearly. And he so obviously didn’t mean what he’d said earlier. Hyunjin liked Minho. That was so clear. 

And he liked him too. A lot. 

——

“Morning.” Hyunjin’s voice was small. 

Minho stretched in place, turning so that his cheek was plush against Hyunjin’s pillow, “hi.”

Hyunjin looked awake. Cold per usual. 

“How are you feeling?” Hyunjin asked, brushing hair from Minho’s cheek, watching him carefully. It was like he thought Minho was a time bomb or something. He was so shaky even with his touches. 

“Better.”

Was he though? It wasn’t like he was upset or anything. Just...really fucking scared. 

“That’s good.”

Their fights were today. 

“Hyunjin, can I ask you something?” 

Hyunjin inhaled deeply before giving a silent nod, sitting himself up against the metallic wall, Minho following shortly after. 

“If you’re not mad can we sleep together again.”

“For the matches?” Hyunjin asked, sliding his hand to Minho’s thigh. 

“It’ll keep us safe, right? And also...can I...top you this time?”

Hyunjin seemed surprised at that, “you’re kidding…”

“I’ve done it both ways I figured I’d try it just in case I do…”

“You’re not dying,” Hyunjin whispered, rushing hair behind Minho’s ear, “is this for entertainment? They’ve never seen me getting fucked...maybe it’d be a good idea.”

Hyunjin was so nonchalant. 

“Only if you want to. We don’t have a lot of time. The matches are after lunch right…?”

“You want to go to the showers? We can use that oil they put in there.” Hyunjin was ignoring the match thing. That was okay. 

Minho just nodded, lacing their fingers together with the slightest smile. He couldn’t be mad at what Hyunjin had said. Or even think about the reality behind everything right now. 

He just wanted to be with him. And Hyunjin didn’t seem to mind at all. 

——

Kissing Hyunjin was really nice. A great feeling. Minho loves kissing him, loved devouring this man’s mouth. Loved the way his hands travelled across him. 

He really liked Hyunjin. And there was a clear indication that Hyunjin was feeling more too. 

“I think your fingers have done enough, don’t you?” Hyunjin laughed against Minho’s lips, tugging his bottom lip carefully, “whenever you’re ready—“

“I don’t want to rush,” Minho admitted, keeping their lips together as the warm water hit his skin. 

He really didn’t want to rush more than they already had, despite Minho being able to slide three fingers easily enough, he really didn’t want to rush. 

“Your dick isn’t that big,” Hyunjin laughed, caressing fingers down Minho’s chest, “you’re welcome to fuck me whenever you’re ready.”

“I know,” Minho flushes, cheeks hot as Hyunjin’s motions caused goosebumps down his arms.

“Hey Minho...I’m really sorry about what I said to you last night.”

Minho glanced down, wrapping his free hand around the younger man’s length, “you’re fine.”

“No...I didn’t mean anything I said to you,” he sighed, breathy moan filling the shower as Hyunjin rest a hand against the shower glass, “I really didn’t.”

“I know.”

Minho moved his hand slowly as his fingers made their way around Hyunjin’s ass, giving the smallest of squeezes. Hyunjin’s pretty voice was really helping work him up. Not that he hadn’t been ready to go the entire time. 

“Minho,” Hyunjin lift Minho’s face by his chin, studying him closely before ghosting their lips, “I do like you, I swear.”

Hyunjin liked him. It was blissful to hear. So heartwarming. It really boosted his confidence. It felt so nice. 

“How do you want to do it?”

“I’ll turn around.” Hyunjin smirked, biting Minho’s bottom lip once more before turning, both hands pressed against the glass as he leaned himself over with the softest laugh, “make it easy. No cramps.”

Minho couldn’t hold the tiny laugh in his throat as he ran his hands over the soft flesh in front of him, “you’re so pretty.”

Hyunjin wiggled himself back some, causing Minho to let out a staggered sigh as the younger brushed against Minho’s length. 

“Fill me up then, we don’t have all day.”

“We have all the time in the world,” Minho replied, angling his tip to Hyunjin’s hole, admiring how Hyunjin instantly clenched at just the smallest press. 

He wanted this badly. He wanted this to continue. He didn’t want this to end, this arrangement. He didn’t want Hyunjin to get out before him. And he didn’t want to leave Hyunjin either. 

He really wanted to be with Hyunjin after this. They were similar in that they didn’t really have families outside of this. Seungmin would love Hyunjin, Minho knew that much. Seungmin used to doodle a lot...he’d find Hyunjin absolutely enthralling. 

They had to meet. 

“Minho…” Hyunjin pressed himself back, causing Minho to hiss in pleasure, “I’m impatient, go ahead. Show me what you can do.”

Minho would think about the domestic shit later. For now he’d give Hyunjin what he wanted, what he wanted.

So within seconds he was pressing himself in deep, glad at how slick Hyunjin was, how easily he could move at this angle. Minho shuddered as he gripped Hyunjin’s hips, watching his length disappear into the man who seemed to swallow him easy enough. 

It felt really nice. Maybe nicer than being fucked. Minho wondered if Hyunjin enjoyed this more, this position. He’d never really asked how Hyunjin preferred sex. He just assumed Hyunjin had wanted the lead the entire time. 

“You can be as tough as you’d like, Minho.” Hyunjin whispered, rocking his hips in anticipation as Minho felt that lovely muscle. 

“I don’t want to be rough, unless you want that.”

“Just do whatever you want,” Hyunjin laughed, “fast...slow. Whatever. Just fuck me.”

Minho did just that. Though he wasn’t sure he wanted to be rough at all. He didn’t want to hurt Hyunjin before the fight. They both had to be steady, so he definitely couldn’t ram into him. But this would work. Whatever way would work. 

Just being with Hyunjin worked. 

Hyunjin’s sighs of bliss were so calming mixed with the sound of the water smacking their skin. Minho gave small thrusts to match the gentle rocking motion Hyunjin delivered below. It was nice. Like a really vanilla, soothing kind of nice. 

Soothing is what they needed. Maybe after their fights and after more than likely medical stays, they’d fuck hard. At least that’s something Minho wouldn’t mind trying. He wondered just how tough Hyunjin could get, the blowjob wasn’t even that bad. Minho’s soreness had subsided the morning after. 

“More~” there was that sing songy voice again. Maybe Hyunjin really did prefer to get fucked. He seemed so excited, so overjoyed as he started to rock himself more. 

“Fuck…” Minho laughed, running a hand along Hyunjin’s lower back as his other gripped Hyunjin’s hip tight, doing his best to not slam into Hyunjin. Though he really fucking wanted to. Especially with how enticing Hyunjin was being. 

Minho could feel the precum leak from his length as he pulled himself out some, smearing the liquid against Hyunjin’s rim before sliding himself back in. Hyunjin felt heavenly. If Hyunjin was feeling the same euphoria as Minho, that was the best reward. Because Minho was enjoying himself. Hard. 

“Minho it’s okay to move more, you won’t break me.” Hyunjin breathed out, steadying himself before slamming back into Minho, letting out a shallow breath. 

“Don’t get too excited—“ Minho choked out, gripping Hyunjin’s hips to take that control back, rolling his hips more now that Hyunjin wasn’t controlling their pace, “we can be rough after we get back.”

Hyunjin just laughed at that, matching Minho’s pace. He must’ve been getting himself off too, something Minho should have been doing instead. 

Maybe he should do that. He was being neglectful. 

“Move your hand,” Minho teased, swatting at Hyunjin’s hand that was sticky with precum, replacing it with his own hand. 

Hyunjin arched his back some, making the angle a little awkward as Minho increased his thrusts, burying himself deep enough to know he was hitting this man’s sweet spot every now and then. 

“Everything about you is so...fuck.”

Minho leaned down, pressing tiny kisses to Hyunjin’s back as his hand worked Hyunjin’s dick. He was close. Like really close. 

“More—“ Hyunjin gasped, pulling himself up against Minho. Another weird position, but that didn’t stop Minho. Nor did it stop him from pressing Hyunjin against the glass door, fingers focusing around the head of his dick as he gave much deeper thrusts. 

Hyunjin was in bliss, he threw his head back into Minho’s shoulder, using one hand to hold himself at the door as the other made its way into Minho’s hair, tugging hard. 

Maybe Minho was being a little too enthusiastic now, he could hear the sound of skin slapping together, and he knew he’d burst any moment.

But Hyunjin beat him to it, cum in thick white lines against the glass door before being washed away to the ground, Hyunjin’s moans long and full of happy little giggles and sighs. 

Hyunjin was so interesting. Minho really didn’t want this to end. He really didn’t. 

Minho thrust deep, Hyunjin flush against the glass as Minho felt his high coming, coils tight in his stomach. He was a little shaky, hand slipping from Hyunjin’s softening dick to reach around to his mouth, the younger man happily allowing Minho to press his fingers into the warmth. 

Hyunjin seemed really happy with that, anyways. He was still laughing through his moans, tongue rolling against Minho’s digits. 

Please be real. 

“Hyunjin where do you want me to—“

“Inside is fine. Or on me. Or the floor. Anywhere. Anywhere,” he gasped out, shuddering against Minho as he let his mouth gape. 

Minho wished he could see Hyunjin’s expression as he came, euphoria digging his vision considerably as he slid himself out mid-cum, watching as the white leaked down Hyunjin’s thigh as he finished against the man’s back, a little annoyed that the shower was washing it all away. 

“Jesus…” hyunjin was out of breath, though still holding Minho’s fingers in between his lips. And he was still giggling happily. 

Minho was tired. Of course he was. Luckily the matches were later in the day but fuck...all he wanted to do was curl up with this man and fall asleep. 

“Minho,” Hyunjin turned, leaning himself against the glass as his fingertips ran along his stomach, “I’m gonna need you to be a lot rougher next time.”

Minho scrunched his nose before leaning forwards, taking Hyunjin’s lips to his, “you’re stupid.”

Hyunjin’s arms around his neck was a little surprising, but he enjoyed the feeling, “Nah, just can’t wait to do it again.”

Again. 

There would be a next time.

Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big oof


	8. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday Jeongin 💛 
> 
> don’t hate new for this lol

Everything felt numb. Wrong. Minho didn’t like how lunch had gone. Didn’t like how anxious he was. How quiet Changbin was being in the hall. He hated it. 

“How much longer?” Minho asked, rubbing his arm nervously. He didn’t want to do this. 

“Soon. Very soon.” Chan sighed, giving Hyunjin a look, “I’ll take care of him, I’m not dying.” 

Hyunjin nodded in reply, staring at the ground, “do you guys think you’ll be in medical?”

“Probably.” Chan admitted, “as soon as I’m out I’ll let you know how Minho is.”

Chan was convinced they’d win. 

“Thank you.” Hyunjin whispered back before crawling into Minho’s lap, wrapping his limbs around him loosely, “just come back soon. Don’t be in medical forever.”

Minho huffed, rubbing Hyunjin’s back, “I’ll try not to be…”

“Don’t leave till you’re better though, okay?” Hyunjin added, burying his face into Minho’s neck. 

“I’ll be fine, I promise.” He was lying. He wasn’t sure he’d be okay after the way those guys had looked at him. They’d definitely target him first. And there was only so much that Chan could do. Minho had to help. He had to, he had no choice. 

“Can we be alone?” Hyunjin asked suddenly, pulling up to look in Chan’s direction, “just for a little bit.”

Chan took a deep breath, “I don’t think fucking twice in the same day is going to make your chances any better.”

Minho buried his face this time with a huff, Hyunjin leaning over to shove Chan off the bed, “Chan, go!”

“Okay okay!” Chan laughed, grabbing Changbin by the arm, “we only have a half hour I think before...just don’t fight.”

“We won’t.” Hyunjin whispered as he wrapped himself tighter around Minho, the sound of the door closing behind causing Minho to peek up from the warm shoulder. 

“Why did you want to be alone?” Minho asked as Hyunjin pulled back some, tilting his head with the faintest smile. 

“If one of us dies today, I just want you to know I really do care about you.” They already talked about this, “like...I don’t think I can call it this at all but I kind of love you. Or I guess...the thought of you. Like if the outside somehow brought us together we’d click...and I would love that.”

Hyunjin’s words were messy. But Minho thought he got the point. 

“If that happens...I’d love that too.” Minho forced a smile, knowing the likelihood of that happening was so...so slim, “if today is anyone’s last match...just know I kinda love you too. The thought of you, I mean.” Maybe Minho did love Hyunjin. And not just the thought of him. But him, right now. Despite the words exchanged just a night ago, he think he might have really fallen for this guy. 

Hyunjin took out his pinky, grabbing Minho’s quickly, “can we promise we’ll hold the thought of one another meeting outside of here while we fight. It’ll be fuel.”

Minho laughed, shaking his head as he tightened his pinky around Hyunjin’s, “sure. I promise.”

Hyunjin leaned forwards, pressing a quick kiss to their locked fingers, “good. I promise too.”

——

Fuel. 

Minho wanted so badly to hold onto that. As random as it had been, it made him want to try. He’d try of course. He would. He had to. He knew if he didn’t help Chan he’d end up dead on the ground. And Minho didn’t want to die. 

“What are you choosing?”

Chan’s weapon choice was questionable. 

“You think that’ll do against...knives?” Minho inhaled, eyeing the silver brass knuckles at either hand, “Chan?”

“Knives are useless when you’ve got someone pinned. They don’t know how to use knives. These are guaranteed to kill.” 

Minho forgot that Chan was so used to this. 

“How many matches have you used them?”

“Ever since I got them.”

“You ignore stuff like...the chainsaw?”

“Changbins the sadistic one. Not me. He likes the new weapons every time he gets them, I don’t.”

Minho took another breath, “what should I do? Do you think they loaded the gun for me?” Minho laughed, eyeing the silver piece. 

“No gun. They’ll just get it away from you. You need something you can swing. Something for defense.”

“Why wouldn’t I just use a blade?”

Chan reached into the box, tugging out the scary looking mace, spikes surrounding the head, “you need something like this.”

“Chan I don’t think I can even—“

“It’s light.” Chan shoved it into Minho’s grasp, “you swing that thing and don’t let it go. Do you understand? This is sharp. Scary. A knife won’t do you any good. Unless you can stab them fatally, it’s useless.”

Minho took a deep breath as he examined the mace in his hands, “what do you think they’ll use?”

“They’re like Changbin, they’re going to use the scary new stuff.”

“What would be new for them?” Minho asked worriedly. 

“I think ones been here two weeks off from me...so probably the stupid hacksaw...their teammate might use a blade or something.”

“You’re going in with brass knuckles?”

“Minho, they’ve never failed me.”

“And I’m going in with a mace…?”

“Smash it into a face and you win, easy.”

Minho shuddered, “fine…let's get this over with.”

“Stay behind me. They’ll be going for you, so just don’t charge and I’ll take care of the rest.”

“What if I have to charge? Isn’t it best for us to both attack…?”

Chan shook his head, “they’re unpredictable. The last thing you need to do is charge someone and get shanked to death. Remember they both have more kills than you. Just listen to me, okay.”

Minho nodded, he really didn’t want to fucking do this. But he trusted Chan. He had no choice. 

——

It was silent. Neither orange said or did anything once the sound to start went off. Ones weapon was hidden. Probably a knife. The other had what Chan had assumed, a fucking hacksaw. It was sharp, but rusted looking. It would definitely hurt. It would definitely cut rough and deep. Minho was fucking terrified. 

But Minho was doing as told, staying close behind Chan. 

“Sucks. A duo.” One of the men said. He looked older than both of them while the other was maybe Hyunjin’s age, if not younger. 

“Yeah. Must’ve fucked up on your end.” Chan spat, clearly not here to make any friends. 

Minho thought it was weird that they were friendly with one another until matches. It was so...so weird. 

“I think it must’ve been one of your guys. Maybe they saw through the bullshit you’re trying.” The younger spoke, voice low. Scary. 

“Bullshit?” Chan laughed, knuckles white as he gripped the knuckles in his hands tight. 

“Yeah, the relationship thing the other one keeps testing. He wants to be those reds so bad.”

“It’s genuine.” Minho whispered behind, keeping himself close behind Chan as the elder made a slight inch forwards. 

“Sure it is.” The younger shook his head, eyeing Chan close. 

It happened fast. Whatever happened that is. It was so fast that Minho couldn’t keep up. And he could barely register the panic that filled as a sharp blade swung in front of his face. 

The younger had a Bowie knife or something. Sharp and definitely scary. And clearly he had some knowledge of how to use it. He was swinging wildly as Minho backed himself up. 

He couldn’t even register that Chan was struggling with the older guy on the floor, blood already splattered along the metal. He didn’t know whose blood. 

He needed to step back. 

Eventually Minho hit the wall, eyes wide as the younger man held his blade tight, watching Minho with odd curiosity. 

“You can’t even fight…” he snickered before raising the blade high, Minho’s body still as he watched in awe. 

He had a weapon. Use it. 

Minho swung, the best he could. The orange just jolted back with a laugh, twisting the knife in his hand as he offered a sadistic half smile, “come on, hit me.”

He couldn’t move. He held the mace tight, eyes constantly darting to Chan. Chan had been cut. He’d been cut. 

But the blade came rushing at him again. This time Minho used his arm to block. Probably stupid since he had a mace—no, not stupid. Minho may have taken a blade to his arm, but the guy before him was growling in agony as Minho connected the mace with his side. 

Mace. Good. Knife. Useless. 

Minho forced the tiniest grin, despite feeling nothing but absolute horror. He had to win, though. He had no choice. 

He couldn’t block out how Chan was covered in so much blood, hand connecting with the man above him, those brass knuckles smashing into his face over and over. But the hacksaw was doing something too. And all that blood pooling at the floor...

Minho couldn’t focus. Especially not with this guy shoving him to the ground, knocking the mace from his hand. He hadn’t held it tight enough. And now he was on the ground struggling to hold this man’s arm away from him. 

And his arm started to sting. And blood was making its way down Minho’s arm, staining against the ugly yellow he wore. 

“Just die!” The younger man growled, elbowing Minho hard before the sharp pain filled his shoulder. 

He’d never felt so much pain. Not the hammer meeting his head, nor any slams into the floor. The knife was a thousand times worse. And Minho couldn’t help but scream out in shock. 

It hurt. 

But he knew Chan was busy. He’d done what Chan asked yet he was on the ground, and for some insane reason, Chan was losing too. 

That terrified him. Chan was losing. All that blood pooling was Chan’s. It was Chan’s. 

Minho kicked hard, the man's knife leaving his shoulder harshly, ripping more skin than the petty kick was worth. 

The mace had done damage, the man’s side was bleeding heavily, and he’d switched hands, the other holding his side like it was life or death. 

It was life or death. 

Minho glanced to the side, mace. 

No. Chan. 

Minho darted passed the confused orange, tackling the man with the scariest fucking weapon to the ground, sound of metal clicking against the floor. 

It wasn’t Minho that needed the protection. It was Chan. 

Minho held the man down, eyes scanning around for anything available. He just had his hands. His hands. 

He could hear. Chan moving, but the squeaky sound of Chan slipping on his own blood caused Minho to panic. 

He clenched his fist before colliding it with the man beneath. 

Bad idea. It hurt. Really bad. 

And soon Minho was smacked against the floor, Chan’s blood mixing into his hair as the man above elbowed Minho in the same shoulder the younger had stabbed him in. 

The younger one. Minho had forgotten about him. Where was he!?

“You think we’re stupid?” The orange laughed before spitting blood into Minho’s face. At least he’d broken some teeth with his punch. That was something. 

But then panic filled Minho’s chest. The blade coming into view. 

“You reds didn’t put up much of a fight. Kinda hard when I’ve got two weapons.” The older orange smirked. 

And then Minho saw. He not only had that hacksaw, he somehow had a knife of his own. Jagged and sharp. Small. Concealable. 

“You—“

“They let me. So they must’ve wanted you two dead.” 

Minho’s eyes widened at the sudden intrusion to his stomach. He hoped that wherever the man was twisting that small knife wasn’t anything vital. But the instant rush of pain and grogginess told him otherwise. 

And then the knife retracted. Only to fill him again. And it was the most jarring thing he’d ever experienced. The absolute horror he knew was on his face was doing nothing to the sadistic man before him. This man wasn’t seeing Minho as a person Minho was an animal. And he was being gutted. 

One more stab to the stomach and Minho was coughing blood, hands shakily trying to push the man off. But it felt hopeless. 

Now he understood all that blood. It wasn’t the hacksaw. It was this blade. 

“Just die, okay! Don’t fight it!” The older man laughed, the knife leaving Minho again. 

He felt tired. But that pain was keeping him awake despite the instant blurriness of his vision. 

Minho hit the floor hard, blood splashing beneath him. But of course it wasn’t his blood. It was Chan’s. 

Had they lost? 

Did they lose? 

“Ten minutes.”

No. Maybe it was just Minho who was losing. 

Maybe. Because Chan was up again, though covered in blood he had the older man on the ground, knuckles colliding hard. 

Minho’s vision. It was way too blurry. He couldn’t move. Luckily he was on his side. He wasn’t choking on his own blood. But it was pumping from his stomach a bit too consistently, and he could taste his blood as it trickled down his lips. 

Chan would win. Probably. 

He looked strong. Scary. But strong. The older man’s hand was still, knife at the ground beside him. 

That was good. 

Minho blinked, fingers curling. He wasn’t even feeling the pain so much as the tiredness. 

Death. He was going to die. He knew he was going to die. 

Minho could hear movement behind him before the feeling of being rolled into the blood at the ground, eyes struggling as he felt hands wrap tight around his neck. 

Yeah, this wasn’t Chan. 

“You have to die!” 

The younger guy. 

But he was already dying? Why was this man trying so hard to kill him? He was going to die. Wasn’t he? 

Chan. The pressure against his neck ended, and he rolled his head to the side, mouth connecting with the crimson that puddled on the ground. He wasn’t sure whose blood it was anymore. Probably a mix of everyone’s. 

Minho couldn’t see what Chan had done to the other orange, but within seconds Minho was being pulled upright, the feeling causing his chest to tighten and mouth to produce small whines. 

He was miserable. Why was it taking so long to die? He’d been stabbed, what? Three times? 

Chan was cradling him, trying to talk to him. But Minho couldn’t hear. He could just see the pretty confetti filling the room, purple and blue strands falling in beautiful harmony behind Chan’s bloody face. 

Minho took a sharp breath, looking up as the papers scattered around. He even reached his hand up to touch them, faint laugh escaping his lips as a piece of crinkly blue paper landed on his palm. 

“Minho, medical. Say medical!”

He couldn’t register. His head spun. His side hurt. His head hurt. He wasn’t even sure how long that guy had been choking him for. Minho was unreliable and unresponsive. 

“Say medical!”

Medical. That magical place with medicine and doctors in masks that looked like robots. Medical. 

“Yes, Minho. Medical…” Chan’s voice was just as hoarse. How many times had he been stabbed? 

Were there 5 different shades of blue confetti? That was so cool. 

Minho blinked in wonder, chest tighter than he’d ever felt as his hand fell to the ground. Oh. Blood. And confetti. Blood and confetti would have been a cool band name. He’d have to tell Seungmin. 

Seungmin. 

Minho was delirious. 

He needed Seungmin. 

He needed Hyunjin. 

No, he needed medical. Medical?

——

He knew where he was. It was clear. The horrible metal ceiling and the sound of beeping to the left of him. Medical. He’d somehow managed his way to medical. 

He had so many doubts he was actually alive right now. 

The first stab wound wasn’t so bad. The second? Practically killed him. The third? He should have been dead. Either that orange was shitty at his job, or Minho was very lucky. 

Wait, was it lucky to survive? 

Minho turned his head the best he could, mirror wall off to the side revealing bandages around his shoulder. His face wasn’t so bad, but he was awfully pale. 

Medical. 

Where was Chan? Was he okay? 

“Chan…” Minho tried his best to sit up, the feeling of sharp pain in his stomach causing him to throw his head back into the pillows, mouth releasing a pained whimper. 

How was he alive?

Minho lay himself back down, releasing painful breaths as he brought his hand to his face, running it along his sore eyes. 

How long had he been here was the better question. But he had nobody to ask. And maybe leaving medical right now was a bad idea. Especially with his bandages bleeding through. He could see the red forming against the white blanket that rest over him. He’d broken stitches just by moving. 

Shit. 

Minho felt comfort as a masked nurse treated his side, reapplying dressing and handing Minho two tiny white pills. He had no idea what they were. But they helped. They soothed him. Helped him sleep. 

Sleep was nice. Waking up wasn’t so nice. Minho should have asked that nurse how Chan was. He should have asked how long he’d been there, and if he could go soon. 

Minho was sure he’d be spending at least another night here. Though he needed to get back as soon as he could. Hyunjin was probably worried sick. 

He needed to get back as soon as he could. 

As soon as he could move without breaking open his wounds, he’d go. Until then he was stuck. Leaving medical early would only hurt everyone else in the end. 

Everyone else. 

Minho wondered how the red team was doing. How Felix was taking their loss. At least, he really hoped they had another loss. It felt selfish and cruel, but Minho needed Hyunjin. Without him, not only was he a shitty fighter and would die without the favor, but he wouldn’t be able to function without the comfort of that man. 

He needed his comfort. 

Minho slept the remainder of the night. He at least assumed it was night. He couldn’t see the sky. There was no sky here. 

“Can I leave?” 

It was stupid to ask that. He might break his wounds but...he didn’t care. He had to get back to his hall. And there was no way they’d match him so quickly. They wouldn’t do that to him. They wouldn’t do that to anyone, right? 

Minho held his side as he stumbled down the hall. Leaving was stupid. Really stupid. But he needed to go back. 

He needed to see Hyunjin. Besides, Chan would help him. There was absolutely no way Chan had made it out without some dressings of his own. He was stabbed, after all. 

Minho could see the yellow tick. It was morning. Shower time. But the showers were silent. They must’ve already gone. Either that or the shower time had just commenced. 

As much as Minho wanted to shower, he needed to see his team first. 

Showering could wait a little longer. He wasn’t even sure he could shower with his stitches. Minho had zero knowledge on treating wounds. 

Minho gripped the wall as he made his way to the first two doors, all closed. 

He wasn’t sure how he felt about them all being closed. What if they thought Minho was dead? No medical would have told them, right?

Minho passed Chan and Changbins doors to press against Hyunjin’s. No budge, but he’d knock. He could have been asleep. 

“Hyunjin?” Minho used his fist to knock gently, letting his head rest against the cool metal. Maybe Hyunjin was asleep. Minho wished there was a window to peek inside. But there wasn’t. So he’d have to invade Hyunjin’s privacy. 

As Minho pushed the door open he felt a little nauseous. Hyunjin’s medals were gone. Along with the carpet. And the sketches that had adorned the wall. 

Minho shut the door. And then he opened it again. 

It was real. His stuff was gone. 

Minho felt panicked. But he’d stay calm. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe Hyunjin had taken everything down. Yeah, maybe that’s what it was. 

“Chan?” Minho’s voice was straining as he knocked at the elders door. 

Please answer. 

He didn’t want to open Chan’s door to find it empty too. He didn’t want that either but then it meant—

The door opened slowly, Chan’s face in view. 

He was alive. Chan was alive. 

“Chan…” Minho was shaky, nearly stumbling over as he pushed his way through the door, Chan helping steady him upright. 

No. 

“Chan where is…”

Minho could sense it the second he looked into Chan’s eyes. And it stung. And hurt. 

Hyunjin wasn’t there. 

“He...he went home, didn’t he?”

He must have won. He must have reached his match cap. He must have gone home. That’s what happened, right? Hyunjin went home. He was mind wiped. On his way back to wherever he came from. 

“Minho—“

“Right?”

Minho’s stomach knotted. He badly wanted to tear his stitches apart as Chan’s face said it all. 

No. Hyunjin didn’t go home. 

“Chan please…”

The door behind opened, Changbin stepping out and taking a deep breath. Changbin had been crying. Minho had never seen Changbin look so sad. 

No. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t happening. 

“Where is he?” Minho shuddered, gripping the wall for support as arms wrapped around him, carefully caressing his stomach and chest. 

No no no. 

“Chan?” Minho could feel the flood in his eyes start. 

“Where is he?”

“Where did Hyunjin go, Chan?”

Changbins touches weren’t helping. They were warm, welcoming. But not helping. Minho could feel the pit of his stomach knotting woefully. 

“Please—“

“He lost.” Chan spoke flatly, eyes full of remorse. Full of…

No. 

“He what?” Minho swallowed thick, eyes darting for answers. He needed answers. He needed the truth. Hyunjin was not—

“He’s dead. Hyunjin lost his match, Minho.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look for Jeongins birthday he won his match! And as great as that sounds it kinda really sucks! :( 
> 
> Ah, I’m sorry to be the worst author ever. Big fat sorry for this :( 
> 
> I love all of them a lot I promise! So if you follow me on twitter here’s that first character death :( Chan won the poll but ultimately it was...yeah. 💔 RIP baby.


	9. Red

“Ten minutes.”

Jeongin’s palms were sweaty, matching the beads down his temples. He could feel himself struggling to catch his breath, fists in tight balls as he staggered back, keeping a slight bounce from the enthusiasm and adrenaline that coursed through him like a runaway train. 

“I don’t want this...” Hyunjin whispered. 

Breaths increased, body tense. He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to do this at all. But he didn’t have a choice. It was him or Hyunjin. 

Jeongin had to win. 

They’d already put up a good fight. Hyunjin had a busted nose, and Jeongin had some broken ribs. Both weapons were thrown to the side. It was a battle of fists now. And Jeongin was ready. He had boxing under his belt. And also something that would help him win. They were encouraging Jeongin to win. 

“Eight min—“

The sound of fist colliding with jaw rang through his ears before he hit the ground, ears ringing as swing after swing hit his face. Part of him could have sworn he heard the crunch of bone, but he couldn’t tell if it was his own bone or from Hyunjin. 

Either way he was running out of time. And breath. And patience. 

Jeongin flipped them easily, Hyunjin growling up at him as he punched back, his own jaw sore beyond belief. He knew if he won it would be swollen for weeks. 

“Five.”

Time was running out. He needed to win. Otherwise they’d both lose. He had no choice. Hyunjin was running out of breath. 

Jeongin took a deep breath, forcing the extra knife they’d slipped him from his sleeve, ramming it upwards into Hyunjin’s stomach. He took a few seconds to twist the knife before tugging it out harshly and tossing it aside, the man in shock beneath him. 

“W-we how?!” Hyunjin looked so panicked, letting out painful coughs as he tried to push Jeongin off of him. But it was no use. Jeongin knew where to hit Hyunjin. Knew how to make it fatal. 

He just had to finish. 

“I’m so so sorry.” His breaths were weak, voice staggering as his hands reached around the neck of the man he knew well. Hyunjin, who despite not having a home, just wanted freedom. Just like him. Jeongin didn’t think any less of Hyunjin, the man was only a year older. He was practically a kid too, he didn’t deserve this. But the people running this wanted Jeongin to win. 

And he’d do just that. 

“Three.”

The struggle was intense. But somehow his blow to Hyunjin’s eye must have really blinded him. He was just crying, growling curses. But he could tell Hyunjin didn’t mean much harm. He never had. He knew this man. This wasn’t fair. Hyunjin wasn’t a bad person. He was sweet, quiet and brooding, but gentle. And he had Minho. What was Minho going to think after this? 

“One.”

A few gasps and kicks and the man fell still under him, clutching at his wrists as hope left his eyes. He never wanted to kill Hyunjin. Never wanted to be matched with people he was teamed with. He felt sick. 

“Match!”

The sickness that overcame him was too much. He could feel the uncomfortableness digging its way up his throat as his fingers released the discarded human. He was shaking. Misery taking over every bone as confetti spray around from the holes in the wall, coating over him and the deceased man below. 

He was sick. This was sick. 

“Winner Red! Loser Yellow!”

Jeongin pulled himself up from his place. He didn’t want to kill Hyunjin. He never wanted to kill anyone. But now he’d gathered his second kill. And it didn’t feel good. It felt horrible. Everything felt horrible. 

——

He’s dead. 

Minho wasn’t sure what had happened after Chan had spoken those words. Minho was in Chan’s bed, blankets wrapped around him tight. He felt numb. Dissociated with the world. Nothing felt real. Nothing felt right. 

Changbin was sat at the foot of the bed, head rest against Minho’s legs. He’d fallen asleep sometime. Minho wasn’t sure when that was. 

He learned he’d been in medical for two weeks. Learned that he sort of died on the table once. At least that’s what the staff had told Chan and Changbin. 

He learned that Hyunjin had died that same day. 

And it wasn’t settling. It didn’t feel real and it didn’t make sense. How could he lose to Jeongin? Jeongin was a kid. Jeongin was just some kid who—

Minho took a deep breath, Chan stirring beside him where he’d been lying. 

“Hey...Minho are you okay?” Chan asked, reaching a hand to cup the side of Minho’s face. 

These two cared. More than Minho had known. 

No. He wasn’t okay. 

“No. I’m not.”

Chan pulled himself upright, taking the deepest breath he could, “I’m so sorry, Minho.”

“He’s really...what happened?” Minho’s breaths were shallow. And his head throbbed. And maybe his side was aching. He wanted to burst. 

“Jeongin wouldn’t tell us. He’s been skipping a lot of meals.”

“Why did he lose…”

“Minho...I think they wanted both of you to die.”

Minho winced, curling back down into Chan, breaths rapid. He hated this. Hated this. 

“That guy who attacked me had two weapons...he kept whispering how I was supposed to lose.” Chan choked out, hands in Minho’s hair, “Minho did you and Hyunjin fight before the matches? Did anything—“

“No...we didn’t do anything wrong.” Minho sobbed, burying his face. He stung all over. And now his heart was warped too, everything just hurt. He wanted it all to disappear.

Hyunjin was dead. 

No, he was really dead. He was gone. Hyunjin was gone. 

Minho wasn’t sure he could live with that. He knew he wouldn’t survive without him. 

He needed to entertain. He needed—no he needed Hyunjin. 

“Min, calm down.”

He couldn’t. He was shaking so bad, tears flooding his vision and head throbbing. He couldn’t calm. Hyunjin had died. He was alone. Hyunjin was dead. He was gone. 

Minho thought he’d gone home. But no. He was dead. Hyunjin was fucking dead. 

Again, Minho passed out. He couldn’t even keep up with the amount of uncomfortable sleep he’d received. He just wanted to die. He wanted death. 

He wanted Hyunjin. 

——

He skipped meals. Skipped showers. Three days had passed and no word on a new teammate. Minho had avoided the cafeteria completely. He figured that he’d be matched soon anyways. If they wanted him dead so badly they’d do it. And honestly, he didn’t care anymore. Minho could barely manage to move with his stitches. Days of sitting against the wall waiting. 

He was just waiting to be matched. To die. 

“Changbin has a match today.”

Minho just nodded weakly, Chan taking a seat beside him, “Minho you need to get something to eat.”

“Why?”

“Minho…”

“Why does it matter? They obviously wanted me to die there.”

“You don’t know—“

“Hyunjin is dead. It’s only a matter of time for me.”

“You need to try. You think I’ve been doing this because I want to? I want to go home, Minho.”

Minho clenched his jaw tight. 

“I’m sorry. I just...you need to eat. And you need to try. You don’t want to give up. Seungmin is still looking...he appeared on the Tv while you were gone. He’s not stopping. They won’t stop. Minho, you can’t quit either.”

Minho let his head fall back, “I don’t think I can make it even if I do.”

“Changbin and I are here for you. We aren’t going to let anything happen.” 

Minho really didn’t believe that. 

Chan’s hand met Minho’s hair, ruffling it gently, “you might not think it, but we genuinely like you. We don’t want you to die on us...god losing him was bad enough but...don’t die on us, please?”

“I just want to go home, Chan.” Minho huffed, leaning into Chan for any semblance of warmth. He didn’t run as hot as Hyunjin had. 

“You will. I know you will.”

Minho doubted that. 

——

Maybe whoever ran this game was sick of Minho’s entire team. Hearing that Changbin had been sent to medical was different. Usually he’d come back covered in the blood of his kill, fist bumping happily. 

There was a purple trophy in his room regardless. And as far as Minho knew, they were almost as weak as whites. 

But Changbin was in medical. For how long? Who knew. Minho still couldn’t take in that he, himself, had been in medical for two weeks...two whole weeks of Hyunjin being dead. Two weeks of no word on a replacement teammate. 

“You doing alright?” Jisung. Minho didn’t expect to hear from the red team. They didn’t talk much with Minho in particular. Maybe they were just keeping close to Chan and Changbin. They had rarely spoken to Hyunjin either. 

“Yeah.” He was lying. Just another day. The only reason he slept was because their rooms were gassed the night before. Minho had finally gotten food, though he’d done more picking at it than anything. 

Jisung sat down, raking his hand through his disheveled blonde hair, “I’m so sorry about what happened. I know that Younghyun spoke to you but...I’m so sorry. I could see you really liked him.”

Of course he did. 

“I did. A lot.” 

Jisung bit his lower lip, “what went wrong?”

Minho sighed, dropping his utensils to give his attention to Jisung, “what do you mean?”

“You were doing the entertainment thing, right?”

So Jisung and Felix mustn’t have been real. 

“Yeah, but I ended up really liking him,” Minho admitted, “is that what you and Felix do?”

Jisung nodded with a slight frown, “what went wrong with you two?”

Minho shook his head, “we didn’t do anything wrong.”

Jisung huffed, “I like Jeongin...I do, but it was surprising to see him coming back.”

“I really don’t want to discuss Hyunjin’s passing.”

Jisung got closer, arms crossed over the table, “it didn’t make sense. Hyunjin wouldn’t have given up so easily.”

Minho swallowed, glancing up to the camera facing him before ducking his head, “during the duo, the other team cheated.”

Jisungs eyes widened, though he kept quiet. He knew they were being watched after all. 

“They had an extra weapon. I think whoever is doing this wanted us dead.”

“You were in medical for a few weeks...Chan was there a few days but...it seemed weird.”

“Chan wasn’t in medical long?” Minho asked. 

“No, he came back early and kept complaining about his head.”

Minho pushed his tray to the side, “what am I supposed to do? If they want me dead for some reason…”

“Either try entertaining with someone else or...just fight hard.”

Minho laughed, shaking his head, “if they were willing to kill Chan I don’t think trying to crawl into one of their pants will help me. Also...Changbins in medical.” It was weird that Minho even considered trying to sleep with one of those two. 

Jisung blinked in surprise, “someone did something. Changbin has never gone to medical. Ever.”

Minho bit his lip hard. If he’d gone, it must’ve been serious. 

“I think my only option is to wait for the match that kills me,” he whispered then, glaring up towards the camera, “I don’t know what I did, but I’d they want me dead I wish they’d hurry it up.”

“Don’t say that—“ Jisung shuddered, hand waving in front of his face, “your brother was on the TV a few days ago...don’t give up.”

Minho started hard into the black glass, so sure the lens was zooming in on him, “I’m not a pawn.”

Was that stupid to say? Probably. Was challenging whoever was behind that camera a horrible idea? Definitely. 

But Minho didn't care. Hyunjin was dead. Changbin was in medical and they had no idea if he was okay, and the people running this shit tried to have Minho and Chan killed. Whatever was happening, was absolute bullshit. 

——

“What did Jisung say to you at lunch?” Chan asked, digging his face into Minho’s side as he gave an obnoxious yawn, “anything useful?”

“He was just giving condolences.” Minho sighed, tossing the tennis ball from Changbins previous win into the air, catching and repeating the action constantly. 

“He’s a good kid,” Chan sighed, “anyone else talk to you?”

“No. I think I seem scary...either that or whoever’s running this game told them to avoid me since I’m going to die soon.”

Chan shot up fast, pain stricken on his features, “what did we just talk about…?”

“You and Changbin haven’t done anything, right?”

Chan winced. 

“Why are they trying to kill us off?”

“I don’t know, Minho…”

“Is there anything that makes any sense? Why would they do this to us when we’ve done nothing wrong!?”

Minho was frustrated, rightfully so. 

“I haven’t done anything. Me and Hyunjin were fine!” He whispered, voice cracking. He didn’t want to cry. He didn’t want to break. And he didn’t want his stitches to break again. 

Chan’s face twisted before warmth encased Minho. Again, the warmth couldn’t match Hyunjin’s. But it was nice. Soothing. Chan was a really soothing person. Minho wouldn’t know what he’d do without Chan. 

Hands moved through Minho’s hair gently, scratching at his scalp, “Don’t give up. No matter what they do to you, just fight.”

“What if I can’t win?”

“They gave you a loaded gun...I don’t know what it is about you, but you must be special. Somehow you’re special.”

“I’m not—“

“My first fight I had the gun.”

Minho stilled, burying his face into Chan’s neck. 

“It jammed. It didn’t work. I thought I was going to die. But I managed. I’ve managed this entire time and somehow got a little favorable from the people running this place. Minho you just need to manage. They like you. They have to.”

Minho shook his head, “I’m going to be here forever if I do that.”

“Just do it for Seungmin...Minho you can do this.”

He didn’t believe that. Not at all. 

——

“Changbin what the fuck are you doing back?!”

Minho jolted awake as Chan’s voice rang through the hall. 

“I’m fine—“

“You look like death! What happened to your eye!?”

“It’s not a big deal—“

Minho rushed from his bed, peeking around the corner to see Changbin standing by his door. 

He really did look like death. He was pale, bandages wrapped around his wrist and head, bloody bandage over his right eye. 

“Did that purple...what did he do?!”

“Changbin…?” Minho called out, teammates directing their attention to him. 

Changbin took a deep breath, “he had...two weapons.”

Again.

“Jesus Christ why are they trying to kill us?” Chan grabbed Changbins face in his hand, tilting his head upwards to examine the damage, fingers prying up the bandage. Minho wanted to vomit at the sight. Luckily Chan shoved the bandage down fast, pulling the shorter man into a tight hug, “Jesus Christ…”

“I think one of us is close to leaving…” Changbin breathed out, distancing himself from Chan to rest against the metal, “they did this to that other guys team…” 

Minho swallowed hard, Chan exchanging worried looks with him. 

“His team was slowly wiped...and then he got out. It was like they didn’t want him to...but he did. I think that’s what’s happening.” Changbin whispered, rolling his head against the wall. He needed to lay down. 

“Changbin…” Minho grabbed Changbins wrist carefully, feeling the deep cuts beneath the bandage, doing his best to not freak out as he pushed Changbins door open, leading the younger man to his bed, “sit down, okay?”

Chan helped, though he was a little more of a hindrance. Minho was shaking, but seemingly still. The news Changbin was giving them was good news, but also bad. One of them was probably getting out, but then two would be left. They’d lose another teammate.

It made sense now. Changbin was probably getting out after all this time. Changbin would be leaving them behind. 

“Just rest, okay?” Minho whispered, brushing his fingers over Changbins wrist, “do you need us to change these? There’s leftover gauze from my side—“

“No...keep it. You need to change your dressings, Minho.” Changbin shot back, “I’ll be fine.”

“Your eye…” Chan sighed out. 

“What about it!?” Changbin growled back. He was clearly annoyed. Clearly pissed off, “I’m fine. Just...fuck, stop looking at it. Just pretend it’s not there.”

Minho gave Chan a look, the elder nodding back, “I’m sorry.”

The rest of the night was quiet. The three of them ended up crashing together in Changbins room. Despite Changbins annoyance towards how they were treating him, he was still cuddled up beside Chan, face buried in the oldest man’s back. 

Minho meant to fall asleep on the rug beside them, but he couldn’t. 

Part of him was longing for answers. 

Changbin was most definitely getting out soon, if that’s what was happening. There was no way it was Minho getting out. Maybe Chan was getting out? 

Minho hated the thought of his friends leaving. But now it just...everything was making so much more sense. 

The people in charge were making it hard on Changbin. Or Chan. Or him. They wanted to crush their hopes. Break them down so that they wouldn’t get out.

This game was sick. 

Hyunjin was dead, and now it made sense. 

Hyunjin’s death would break Minho. And Minho was fairly certain if he died, that he’d end up breaking Chan. And if Chan died...Changbin would be alone. 

They needed each other. After spending less than a month with these guys, he needed them. 

Minho sighed as he rest his face against Changbins side, watching his sleeping teammates close. 

He badly wanted Hyunjin. Badly wanted to erase that day. But that wouldn’t change anything. Minho had to focus. He had to survive for his team. They were a team. He couldn’t back down. He couldn’t give up. 

Giving up would ruin his team. 

And they needed Minho. He couldn’t leave them. No. He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t leave them. He refused. 

——

Had he read that right? 

Perhaps. Maybe Minho would have to leave them. He’d be dead, anyways.He wouldn’t know how the other two felt. Minho wasn’t religious. He didn’t think there was an afterlife. 

If he died this afternoon, then he’d just be dead. 

Even if Chan and Changbin fell after, Minho would be dead. What was the point? 

Maybe Chan had already given up. The second they read the paper Chan had broken. With just a couple names and colors, Chan was on his knees, eyes glued to Minho full of sympathy. 

Changbin hadn’t said anything. Maybe he’d given up too. He was still not able to look at Minho. Not able to look at anything but the floor. 

Yeah, the hope Minho had grabbed onto was a waste. 

Minho took a deep breath as he scanned the names one more time;

Lee Minho - Yellow 

Vs. 

Kang Younghyun - Red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That end though 😔


	10. END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, so here’s the end. Firstly, I’m big sad. Secondly, I hope you’re big sad too. Sjdjdhd 
> 
> Ahhhh I don’t want it to end but it’s time. I hope everyone who read enjoys the ending 💛

Hyunjin’s door was shut. Which indicated a new team member, which meant another poor soul in this fucked up game. Not only that, but Minho would have to face Kang Younghyun in a fight to the death. 

Minho should have gone to breakfast after that. But he couldn’t. He could barely stand to be in the shower right now. 

But the shower was giving him that warmth. That comfort. 

As Hyunjin’s ghostly lips ran across his shoulder blades, Minho couldn’t help but release tiny moans, coils in his stomach knotting and begging for him to finish. 

Finish. 

He was really getting off in the shower. He figured thinking about Hyunjin helping him was a good way to end himself. One last time to get off. 

“Hyunjin…” Minho gasped out, clutching the wall as he increased his pace at his length, wrist growing tired from all the excitement. 

Oh. Blood. 

Minho kept forgetting he wasn’t really supposed to be showering with his stitches like this. But fuck, the world needed to give him a break. Or at least a breath. 

Minho ignored the blood running down his legs. He had to. 

He imagined Hyunjin, behind him, being the one to push him into the wall as he came, vision hazy as white lines washed down the tiles, mixing with the blood at his feet. 

It wasn’t that bad. The blood. 

Minho felt himself fall to his knees, breaths rapid as he felt peace wash over him in the form of the steaming shower water. 

It felt nice. Soothing. 

He wasn’t sure he’d feel nice again after this. This was probably the last time he’d feel lightheaded and free. 

Minho couldn’t register anything as he slipped to the ground, breaths rapid as the water smacked his cheeks. 

Free felt so nice. 

——

“Minho...get up.” 

Chan’s voice. 

He wasn’t free anymore. 

Minho peeked his eyes opened, Chan settled above him, hand in his hair again. 

“Your blue is practically all gone...that water was really hot, Minho.”

Minho stayed silent, watching Chan who seemed more sad than anything. 

“I know that...it’s really hard, but Minho you can't just give up.”

Minho let out a laugh, “Chan, it’s Younghyun.”

Minho could see the tears at the corner of Chan’s eyes. 

“I know, Minho.”

Younghyun would kill him. Maybe it was an honor to be killed by Younghyun. An honor to have his life ended by a top player. Minho wasn’t even mad. He wouldn’t be able to fight Younghyun, right? Younghyun was such a sweet person. He couldn’t hurt him. So far everyone he had been against was a...kind of awful. It wouldn’t be fair. Minho knew he’d die. He should accept it. 

“Don’t give up...please?”

“What’s it matter?”

“Minho…”

“They scheduled the fight before lunch,” Minho snapped, “they want it done with. They want me dead.”

Chan just inhaled deep, keeping his motion in Minho’s hair, “I wish I could fix this. I don’t want to lose you too, Min.”

“I’m sorry, Chan.” Was he sorry? He was going to accept his fate. That’s what he should do anyways. 

Minho had less than three hours before his surprise match with Younghyun. Three. 

He had to accept his fate. Trying to fight it was useless. A waste of his last few hours. 

Minho sat up, the stinging in his side almost unbearable as he grabbed hold of Chan’s face, “Chan, when you get out...I hope you go on that date with that girl.”

Kissing Chan was probably really wrong. Really stupid. But Minho was feeling wrong, and really stupid. Kissing Chan was weird, but warm. Not warm like Hyunjin, but warm enough. 

Chan pressed Minho back with his hand, taking a deep breath, “Minho...are you trying to entertain them?”

“No...I just wanted to. When’s the last time you had a kiss? You’re like...very straight, right?”

Chan laughed at that, leaning his head onto Minho’s shoulder, “yes. I’m very into titties.”

Minho snorted, patting Chan’s head, “anyone can have breasts, Chan.”

Chan huffed, arms wrapping around Minho’s waist to give tiny squeezes. He probably didn't want to hurt Minho at all, “I don’t want you to go.”

Maybe his heart had finally broke or something. He felt helpless. He would be abandoning Chan. Chan would be alone, wouldn’t he? Changbin was clearly about to exit. It’s the only thing that made sense. Minho would be leaving Chan. And changbin would be too. 

“I’m so sorry, Chan.” Minho took a deep breath, pressing small kisses to his friend's hair. 

He did feel bad. He did. 

“Don’t give up, Minho.”

Minho lifted his face from the comfort of Chan’s shoulder, Changbin standing in the doorway. 

“If you give up, Younghyun will tell me. If you don’t bust his jaw I’ll never forgive you.”

“Changbin—“ Minho covered Chan’s mouth with his palm, directing attention to Changbin. 

“I’ll be dead anyways.”

“Don’t make it easy. Don’t die easily.” Changbin huffed. 

Minho took a deep breath. 

“Remember what Hyunjin said? Don’t be a fucking pawn. If you give up and die you’re letting them win.”

“What’s the point of—“

“If you’re going to die, give them the biggest fuck you that you can. Don’t let them sit back comfortably. Stress them out.” 

Minho slipped his hand from Chan’s lips, the oldest man just giving Minho a sorrowful look. 

“If you just die. They win. Don’t let them win.”

“So you want me to be a king?”

“No. Kings get weak in the end, they lose chances to make moves. Be the queen. Move everywhere, move so much that they can’t keep up. Make the end yours.”

Minho didn’t know much about chess, he didn’t know much about anything. But he understood what Changbin wanted him to do. 

Not give up. 

Fuck. 

“Now move over so I can hug Minho, Chan.” Changbin breathed out as he approached the bed. 

Minho forced the smallest smile as Chan moved so Changbin could wrap his arms around him. He’d never felt Changbin so close. It was nice. Changbin was almost as warm as Hyunjin. Minho realized that all three of these boys were warming. He loved them. He really did. 

Even if he’d only had them for about a month, he adored each of them so badly. Minho would gladly die for them. He’d do everything for them. 

And if Changbin wanted him to put up a fight, he would. He had to. 

——

“Minho, come back, okay?” Chan whispered, running his hands down Minho’s shoulders. 

He only had minutes. Just minutes before he had to go. 

“Do everything you can. Remember what I told you. Don’t try to be a pawn. And don’t be the king either.”

Once Changbin had properly explained the chess terms, Minho understood that the queen was the most powerful piece. Though the king was strong, near the end of the game the king couldn’t make many moves, if any. The queen was the most important in the end. Minho would do everything he could. Everything. 

“Do it for Hyunjinnie, okay? He’s watching you, okay?” Minho didn’t believe in that. But it was comforting. Especially coming from Changbin. 

“Minho...be careful okay? Younghyun’s a good guy. I guarantee he won’t use anything dirty on you.” Chan spoke, “good luck…”

Minho couldn’t help but smile, patting Chan’s hair, “I’ll do my best...I promise.”

“If I don’t see you, it better be because you’re in medical.” Changbin laughed, “just come back, okay?”

Minho wouldn’t say that he’d come back. But he wanted to. Badly. 

The likelihood was almost zero. He didn’t expect to walk out. Younghyun wouldn’t lose. And Minho was still recovering. Hell, his bandages were still bloody from breaking his wound again.

Minho wouldn’t win. But that was okay. He’d try. For Chan and Changbin, and for Hyunjin. 

No. 

He’d do this for Seungmin. 

——

Minho ran his fingers across the array of weapons. Hammer. His new shiny weapon was a hammer. Hammers were painful. He remembered well. He didn’t want to swing a hammer at Younghyun. 

Gun? The gun wasn’t loaded. Would just hurt to use against Younghyun. 

Spoon? Sharp and quick. He could use it and...no. No spoon. 

Another weapon. Perhaps the one that had been added during Minho’s duo. Either that or it was added just today. 

A knife. Sharp, not too large. 

A knife would work. A knife was his best bet. 

He doubted he’d face a chainsaw, but whatever he’d face, he was sure Younghyun wouldn’t be too cruel. Younghyun has been nice to him despite everything. He’d been a little comforting throughout the time Minho had spent here. 

He wouldn’t hurt him too badly. Maybe. 

Minho clutched the knife, getting a feel for it. It was small, light. And sharp. Minho had to remember how sharp it was. 

Come to think of it, the knife was interesting. Maybe this is the same type of knife that had hurt Changbins arm. If it was, it was really sharp. Durable. Good. 

He’d do what he could. 

As Minho stepped into the room he could hear faint breaths from the man that had his back turned. 

Younghyun was praying, he thought. He was whispering, on his knees. He must have been worried himself. Or maybe Minho was his exit match. Maybe he was praying that he was. He hoped so. 

Younghyun had been here forever. He deserved to go home. 

Minho couldn’t see his weapon, as Younghyun stood and turned he seemed cold. Still. 

Maybe he wouldn’t be so nice. 

“Hey,” Minho whispered, taking a deep breath. He wouldn’t talk dirty. He wouldn’t say anything harmful. He wasn’t that type of person, anyways. He would keep his head high. But he’d be respectful, “good luck, Younghyun.”

Younghyun stay still, weapon not in sight. Which worried Minho. He preferred to know what was coming. 

“Good luck to you too, Minho...I’m sorry we got matched together.”

“It’s not your fault.” Minho whispered, a thin smile at his lips, “whoever wins...congrats to them.”

Younghyun looked solemn. 

“Match start!”

“I’m so sorry for Hyunjin.” 

Minho yelped in surprise as a knife landed at the ground by his feet. 

“Jeongin was given that same knife two weeks ago.”

Minho swallowed hard, eyes trying to study the blade. 

“They wanted me to use it on you. I refuse.” Younghyun whispered, taking a deep breath, “I’m not doing that to you. This will be fair.”

“Fair…” Minho took a deep breath as his eyes met Younghyun’s again. 

“Let’s do this, yeah?” Younghyun frowned. No weapon in sight. What weapon did Younghyun have?! 

Minho felt his body tense up as Younghyun moved his foot forwards. He was so used to being rushed. To be forced to make a move. But Younghyun was waiting for him. Waiting for Minho to rush him. He was smart. 

“I can’t rush you.” Minho whispered, knife tight in his hand. 

“You’re soft. Chan told me that you were like a deer when you guys had your duo…”

That kind of hurt. 

“You don’t deserve to be here,” Younghyun took another step, “I don’t want to hurt you. But it’s either one of us does something or we both die when the timer runs out.” 

Minho blinked, he wanted to move. But his body wasn’t allowing him. 

“We don’t have a lot of time, Minho.”

Younghyun moved first, but no weapon. 

Minho didn’t want to fight him. He didn’t want to hurt him. 

But the feeling of being grabbed and shoved into the metallic wall shook his insides. Minho’s breath grew rapidly as Younghyun’s hands moved their way around his throat. 

Why wasn’t he moving? 

“Minho...I’m sorry. I really am—“

Minho felt the pressure. Was he really going to let this happen? 

‘Minho, you can move wherever you want. You don’t need to protect anything. You’re not a pawn.’

Hyunjin? 

‘Minho, a queen would move. A queen wouldn’t stay corned.’

Minho panicked, he could hear Hyunjin in his head as Younghyun’s hands tightened around him. 

No. He couldn’t lose. 

Minho shoved Younghyun back, the elder clearly not anticipating Minho to do anything. Minho tightened his fingers around the handle, ready to swing as Younghyun collected his balance. 

This felt surreal. He wasn’t about to fight back. He couldn't— 

‘You can move anywhere, Minho.’

Minho figured he was hearing Hyunjin because he’d lost a lot of blood from his previous wound. His side. He was hearing him because of that. 

Minho didn’t have a lot of time, Younghyun rushed at him this time, both men landing hard against the metal. But he wasn’t going to lose like this, he swung the blade hard, catching Younghyun’s shoulder. It was painful to see this man cry out. It was painful to hurt him, but he had to. 

Minho kicked upwards, Younghyun elbowing Minho hard in the face. 

Like, really hard. Younghyun was a lot stronger. Minho needed to get it together. 

Minho couldn’t find words, he just took deep breaths, swinging the knife again. Luckily getting Younghyun’s cheek. But as Younghyun grabbed Minho’s wrist, twisting until the knife smacked the floor, he could feel all that pressure rising. 

He knew time was running. And he wasn’t progressing. Especially not as Younghyun wrapped his hands around Minho’s neck again. 

“Get off!” Minho managed, thrashing again. Younghyun was so fucking strong. But he couldn’t give in. Not even if those large hands were applying a ridiculous amount of pressure around his throat. He wouldn’t lose. 

Minho gasped out, feeling around the ground until he felt the tip of his knife. Thank god it hadn’t been knocked away. Minho didn’t want to do it, but he had to. 

Younghyun cried out, releasing Minho as he clutched the side of his neck, breath rapid. 

Minho couldn’t give up. He got to his feet, shakily holding the knife tight, breaths heavy through choked coughs as he ran his free hand around his sore throat.

Younghyun gazed up, blood pouring from between his fingers. 

Why hadn’t Younghyun used his weapon? 

“So you can fight. You just need to be pushed.” Younghyun laughed, rising to his feet as he held his neck, “I learned something recently…” 

Younghyun slipped his hand into his pocket, Minho’s eyes widening at the gun that displayed. 

“I realized that I’m not going home anytime soon.” The loud sound of the gun hitting the floor caused Minho to jump, knife tighter in his grasp. 

“It’s one of you leaving...not one of my boys or me.”

“I’m sorry.” Minho staggered, shakily raising his knife, “you deserve to go home too.” Minho’s own voice was choppy. 

“Say hello to Seungmin for me.” Younghyuns eyes were...

Minho tilted his head at that, eyes widening as Younghyun rushed him again, holding Minho’s hand tight in his own grasp so suddenly, his free hand curling around the back of Minho’s head for support. 

He’d rushed into Minho’s knife. Minho’s knife was buried in his stomach. And Younghyun was angling Minho’s wrist, pushing the knife deeper. 

It felt unreal. It wasn’t real. 

They slipped to the ground, Minho holding the back of Younghyun’s head as blood painted his red shirt. 

“Minho…”

“W-what’re you doing?” Minho whimpered, mind on fire. Why would Younghyun do this?

“I figured they weren’t giving me a lot of matches because my cap was low. This is my first in a week…”

Minho wasn’t sure how that was relevant. 

“I’m never getting out. They made it so clear...my cap isn’t low. It’s high. They’re toying with me.”

“W-Younghyun this could have been your last match?” Minho didn’t understand. 

“No...I don’t think it’s my last. Definitely not. They told me I’d probably have to match your newbie. That poor boy whose name they whispered to me like it was...a game, and I couldn't help it. I lost it.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Minho, this game is so cruel. The second they told me who...I couldn’t just kill you. I couldn’t do it. Not to you.”

“Why am I so special? What does that mean?”

“I don’t know, kiddo.” Younghyun laughed, bringing a hand to pet Minho’s cheek, “they like hurting you though, they really...really do.” 

Younghyun’s voice was fading. Much like the light in his eyes. 

“Younghyun…”

“You know...my family stopped looking last month.”

Minho sniffled at that, caressing the man's face as he trembled in his grasp. 

“You deserve to go home...even if he’s—“

Younghyun didn’t say anything after that. He didn’t breathe after that either. And it confused Minho. It confused him so badly.

Even if who what?

“Match!”

Minho held Younghyun still, confusion sweeping over him. 

“Champion Yellow! Loser Red!”

Champion. 

Minho had never heard that one. Champion? It was always the winner. Not Champion—Minho blinked at the bright light that appeared on one side of the wall, letters scrambling across. 

“Congratulations?” Minho read, head throbbing as he lay Younghyun carefully down at the ground, walking closer to read the small font. 

‘Congratulations on reaching your cap—‘

Minho covered his mouth, fingers shaky as lips parted. His cap? He’d only done this about four times now. Four matches was his limit? That’s all he needed? 

This wasn’t real. It wasn’t. 

‘You will have an hour to say goodbye. Afterwards, you will be put to sleep and escorted off the premises.’

Minho couldn’t understand what he was reading. There was absolutely no way on earth he was being let out. 

Hyunjin died...because Minho was getting out? 

Minho’s lip quivered, Hyunjin died because of him? 

‘Please vacate. Medical is not an option. Thank you and goodbye.’

Minho didn’t hesitate to squeeze through the door the second it opened. He had to breathe. And that dim room wasn’t helping. 

He stood in the hall in absolute shock. 

But was this a good thing? Was Minho really about to go tell everyone he was leaving? 

Was lunch still going on?

This felt surreal. Too quick. Too fast. What the fuck had Younghyun meant when he—

Minho took a deep breath before staggering down the hall, glimpsing at the cafeteria that was half full. Maybe Chan and Changbin were in the hall—

“Minho?” 

Chan. 

Minho turned, eyes wide as Chan’s expression altered into a wide grin. And then the warmth of his friend wrapping around him. Did Chan expect Minho to live? Because Minho hadn’t. 

“How the hell...you beat Younghyun?” 

Minho looked away, “I...yeah but Chan he…” 

“Hey calm down...Minho are you okay? Why didn’t you go to medical your neck is—“

“He let me win,” Minho shuddered, “they...they wanted him to kill me but he said he couldn’t…”

“They told him that?”

“The new kids room should open soon, I’m not looking forward to another empty room but—“ Changbin. 

Changbins expression went from cold to extremely warm. He pushed passed Chan to bury himself into Minho, breaths shaky as he patted Minho’s back hard. 

“I guess we don’t need to worry about that empty room.” Chan laughed, ruffling Minho’s hair as Changbin made no effort to let go of Minho. 

Empty room. 

Minho’s stomach suddenly tightened. And he could feel his eyes glazing over, and wow his heart rate was skyrocketing. 

“I have...there’s something I need to—“

Minho’s entire body was shutting down, he collapsed against Changbin, clinging to his friend for support. 

But he felt awful. 

Leaving them behind. 

Why was Minho getting out? Why him?

“Younghyun let me win...why did he let me win.”

Changbin helped sit Minho down against the metal wall, both him and Chan kneeled down with him. Minho could barely breathe. 

“Younghyun let him win?” Changbin asked, giving Chan a startled look, “why would he—“

“He was saying weird things to me…” Minho whispered, “he said that they told him to kill me but he didn’t want to. And he kept on about how the game was cruel and—“

“Woah, Minho calm down. It’s okay. You’re okay,” Changbin shot Chan a worried look, “he should have gone to medical—“

“They wouldn’t let me,” Minho spat, clutching his side as he tried to calm his breaths. 

“Why not?” Chan asked, petting Minho’s hair. 

Minho felt horrible. He felt like vomiting. 

“Because they said I was leaving.”

Minho did vomit. The second he saw Changbins mixed expression he leaned to the side, spewing his guts to the floor. 

Everything spun. He felt horrible. Disgusted with himself. The face Changbin gave hurt. Changbin was so hurt. And Minho felt so fucking awful. 

Chan on the other hand seemed to comfort him even more, pulling Minho into a tight hug, rubbing his back and whispering that it was okay. 

But it wasn’t okay. Minho felt horrible. He felt so vile. And horrible and wrong. Minho felt so damaged internally that he could barely breathe. 

“How long till you leave?” Changbin whispered suddenly, causing Minho to look up from the comfort of Chan’s shoulder. 

“They said I had an hour...they’re going to drug me and take me out and…Changbin I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry—“

“Stop...Minho don’t apologize.” Changbins voice was small. 

“I didn’t know. I swear I didn’t know I’d go home…”

“You get to see Seungmin…” Chan smiled, patting Minho’s cheek. 

Seungmin. Minho let out a sob at that, burying himself into Chan. He’d get to see Seungmin. He’d get to go home. 

“Minho do you want to announce that you’re leaving to anyone else—“

“No...no I just want to be with you two. I can’t go out there. Can we go back to the rooms?”

“Yeah, yeah of course.” Chan smiles, helping Minho up. 

The second Minho hit the warmth of Changbins bed he couldn’t help but let his tears finally fall. Minho was unsure if his tears were happy or sad. He should be happy he’d be leaving. But he was sad because he’d be leaving Chan and Changbin. And they’d been there longer. And they didn’t deserve this. They didn’t deserve this at all. 

“Minho...we’re gonna miss you.” Chan laughed, raking his fingers into Minho’s hair, “I guess they let you go once you washed all that blue out, huh?”

Minho laughed through his tears, sighing at the warmth from Chan’s touches. Chan had been a good friend. A good constant. It stung that he wouldn’t remember him. 

“Get some sleep before you go,” Changbin whispered before curling beside Minho, offering the weakest smile, “you earned this.”

He didn’t earn anything. 

But he did fall asleep. He wasn’t sure if it was at his own accord, but he woke quickly with realization. 

He’d be leaving. He didn’t have time to sleep. 

“How long was I—“

“Like forty-five minutes.” Changbin answered quickly before disappearing out the door. 

“Just in time for the newbie,” Chan sigh, giving a stretch. 

“Newbie?” Minho sighed. He honestly hoped he wouldn’t get the chance to meet whoever they’d taken this time. A new teammate. Hyunjin’s replacement. Minho realized he’d be getting his own soon. 

“Should I stay away or...?”

“I think if they meet you it would be good for them. We’ll tell them you got out and...it’ll be a motivator.” Chan smiled, patting Minho’s shoulder. 

Minho just nodded, sitting himself up in the bed as he heard the door creak open. He wondered if this kid would freak out just like he did. 

The second he stood up Chan was back in the room, shutting the metal door. He looked...startled. 

“Chan?”

“Minho, we don’t need to meet him.” Chan panicked. His breaths were messy, eyes wide. 

“Why? Is he okay?” 

The first thought Minho had was he somehow killed himself. He wasn’t sure why that was his first thought, but it was. 

“No...Minho we just don’t need to see.” 

Minho pulled himself off the bed, “Chan...what is it?”

“Where am I?”

Chan’s eyes widened more. He’d never seen Chan look so panicked. 

No. 

“Move.”

“What is this place?” The voice sounded unsure. Not panicked. Calm. It was calm. He was clam. 

Minho’s heart raced, “Chan please move…”

“Minho I…”

Minho didn’t hesitate to move Chan, shoving him aside way too harshly before swinging the metal door opened, eyes straining on the tall figure standing over Changbin. 

And his heart broke. Into millions of tiny pieces as the blonde man turned to face him. 

And before he could even speak, he felt dizziness take over. And he knew he was on the ground, that tall figure screaming his name, patting his cheek, begging for him to wake up. 

And Younghyun was right. This game was cruel as it was twisted. And Younghyun must have meant this was the thing he’d been told when he was dying. 

He wasn’t talking about Minho. 

He meant Seungmin. When Younghyun said Minho deserved to go home even though someone was...that someone was Seungmin. And Younghyun meant that Seungmin was here. 

At least Minho got to see Seungmin. At least Seungmin knew that Minho hadn’t bailed on him. 

But Minho wouldn’t remember a thing. He knew he wouldn’t. 

——

“If anyone knows anything about my brother...anything at all, please.” He choked, the mic in his face causing him to panic inside, heart wretched, “please contact the police. Contact me. Please. I just want him home safe. He would never…”

It felt weird. Minho had woken up in a police station. Apparently he’d been missing for over a month. And now Seungmin was missing too, his little brother was missing. 

Minho wasn’t sure what to do. Where he’d been for the missing month. Nobody knew. But they’d suspected he’d been taken by some traffickers for some reason based on how beat up he’d been. Minho had way too many drugs in his system too. He was lucid when they found him. And they even at points had suspected he’d done something to Seungmin. But that was quickly shut down. Minho didn’t remember anything. The police didn’t pressure him anymore about where he’d been. Doctors had even told them that Minho had no capability of remembering where he’d been. 

Minho just wanted Seungmin. He wanted to find his little brother safe and sound. 

Deep down Minho wondered if the same people who took him had taken Seungmin too. It was cruel. 

Minho remembered chess. Remembered something about being a Queen? It was nonsense. Minho was crazy. He’d lost it, hadn’t he? 

Minho settled back into Seungmins bed, staring at the ceiling. 

Don’t be a pawn. 

What did that mean? Minho huffed, rolling onto his side, eyes settling on the cute photo Seungmin had printed of them the day they left the orphanage, throwing middle fingers and tongues sticking out. They had the happiest expressions. 

It made Minho smile. Minho missed Seungmin. Minho missed him so fucking much. 

Don’t be a pawn. 

Minho would find him. He wouldn’t stop searching until Seungmin was home. He’d never stop. 

Minho pulled himself up, taking a deep breath as he stared at the image. 

Don’t be a pawn. Be a queen. Move everywhere. Control the game. 

Minho needed Seungmin to come home.

He needed Seungmin to be a Queen. He needed Seungmin to control the game. 

Where was this coming from? What game?

“Seungmin...I’m gonna find you. I swear. I won’t stop until I find you.”

——

Two months. 

“Seungmin. I won’t stop looking for you. I won’t stop! Don’t be a pawn! Keep fighting okay?! I don’t know where you are but don’t be a pawn!”

The sight was hard. It had been hard for the those passed couple of months. But there was comfort in seeing Minho on the screen. Comfort in seeing his brother fighting so hard, refusing to give up. 

And it was cruel. 

“Seungmin, you don’t have to—“

Seungmin shook his head, staring hard at the screen, “No, I like seeing him. I knew he wouldn’t give up on me.”

“He never did.” Chan whispered, sighing as he watched the man on the screen thrashing to grab the interviewers mic, “he never will.”

“And I never will either.” Seungmin whispered, taking a deep breath as he rubbed the red and yellow striped ribbon at his arm. 

He’d get home. He had to. Seungmin wouldn’t stop until he was back home. 

He wouldn’t be a pawn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m going to hell, I know: 
> 
> So if you made it this far and you’re wondering about that open ass ending, yes. It’s happening. It will. Also I hope everyone notices the ribbon on Seungmin’s arm :) and maybe how uh...Chan was there but our boy Changbin wasn’t. I mean idk why he isn’t there pffff
> 
> Anyways thank you for reading and I’ll be back with something less exciting but hopefully as riveting? If that’s what this was??? I don’t know. 
> 
> Thank you though, a bunch.

**Author's Note:**

> If I messed up tagging please let me know.
> 
> Like always, thank you so much for reading and if you’d like to reach me I’m on Twitter and cc linked below! 
> 
> A L S O 
> 
> I don’t know why on earth I have to do this but please do not reupload my work under any circumstances. If you’d like to for any reason please message me first, do not reupload my work. If you see my works on wattpad please report them, I will never grant permission for wattpad.  
> [Twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/skzorcism)  
> [Curious Cat](https://curiouscat.me/Str4y)


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